15 November Journey to Nebaj
Breakfast at Las Brasas very tasty cheeses omlette with fried banana, water melon and twice cooked frigoles then back to Posada El Arco to pick up our bags. Chichi has no bus station so it is neccesary to catch a passing bus. Whilst waiting and hoping at the crossroads above the hotel someone heard me trying to say Sacapulas and directed us to a minibus going to San Cruz del Quiche, the capital of Quiche. Joan records having a very comfortable seat but I was not as lucky for this 16 seater had a payload of 24 people, quite a feat!
After a 30 min drive we arrived at the bus station in San Cruz where the very same helpful man directed us to the bus for Nebaj. The helper on the minibus took Brian's bag to the new bus and put it on the roof. The empty bus gradually filled up to overflowing, as usual, over a 20 minute wait and picked up still more people on route. We both had comfortable seats for this four hour journey. The road was good to Sacapulas climbing at first then winding down into the fertile valley then crossing a large fast flowing river in the town. After that the road, fairly new but un-surfaced with landslides obviously a continual problem, wonderful views and blue skies as we climbed steeply to Nebaj.
On leaving Brian took a picture of the bus
Whereupon the two helpers (conductors) joined in the photo good humouredly. The younger boy was a real charmer was the one who collected all the fares on the bus, cajoling the money from reluctant payers.
At the bus station we were approached by a man, Gaspar as recommended in the Lonely Planet we later discovered, who wanted to take us walking in the hills tomorrow - staying in the Ixil villages - for our sins we have agreed!!
We went to the Municipal Offices in the square in the hopes of getting a street map of the town - but none were to be had. Looking around on the first floor balcony we could see a major excavation some fifteen feet deep apparently just to build new gardens. Senor Thomas Raymond came over to speak to us in good English and explained they were building an underground car park with decorative gardens on top, now all was clear forward thinking for a town with few cars.
Our new acquaintance had spent fifteen years in the army and done a spell in the British Embassy in Guatemala City. He was now working for the police and hoping to develop tourism in the area by providing tourist police and teaching the locals to keep their town free from rubbish. A society used to tomales in corn or banana leaves now had to deal with rubbish in the form of indestructible plastic bags and bottles. Joan noted this town was not as bad as many others, he is clearly making a difference, concluding we will remember this man for he was so pleasant.
We walked passed the Artisania stalls selling woven bags, cloth shawls hupiles and head dresses to intricate for me to put on!
Then got into conversation with a Dutch couple in an Internet cafe cum Spanish language school.They had been travelling Guatemala, Honduras and Belize flying in and out of Cancun in Mexico, they hadn't enjoyed Belize but every where else had been great.
Our policeman explained the three towns in the Nebaj area were Ixil people who spoke but didn't write their own language. Today the children are taught to read and write it using text books written by a lady from the US who had lived here for twelve years and during that time had learned their language. 'I'm afraid Brian and I don't agree about preserving old minority languages - he thinks they should be left to die out'. There are apparently 25 different tongues in Guatemala alone.
The women's costume here is very elaborate - we saw three women in the style yesterday in Chichicastenango market. The embroidery and back strap weaving is very intricate. Many of the women here are war widows, the war which finished in 1996, just eight years earlier, was fought by guerillas in the mountain whole villages also being destroyed.
16 November
Up early for breakfast, ejote - eggs french beans and rice, in the square where we met up with our guide and Andre his eight year old son.
Together we walked up and up and up with beautiful flowers and views, I did see my humming bird in a pine tree, I suppose that comes from having flowers. I called out Colobri, Spanish for humming bird, and Gaspar came running because he thought it was a snake. He said that here the humming bird is called Hijo de Quetzal, son of the Quetzals, which also has irridescent feathers but is very rare. It seems common enough to me for I have seen several!
There are raptons? overhead and the sky is blue, pity we left our sun cream at the hotel in Nebaj.
We walked with few stops o the top of the mountain where we admired the view of Acul down in the valley ahead. A French party of six to eight people came by they were on a five day trek - lucky us!
We were very tired and acing when we reached the village where we were staying at La Posada Ixil Dona Magdalena a wonderful wooden building with a garden all around with lilys, geraniums, hollyhocks and canna lilies, colourful bushes and roses climbing the tree in front of the door.
As for live stock there were hairy pigs, three dogs, hens with chicks and turkeys. Magdalena was there with her daughter and two delightful grandchildren, Evelina about two and her brother about five - a very happy family. We had a very welcome chicken soup when we arrived with good pieces of chicken. Andre gnawed the bones we left. He looks well fed but often says he is hungry, he is an engaging boy with a cheeky grin. His mother died following a stomach operation so his father brings him on the treks. Later Joan decided he was a naughty boy who stole two wieners from Magdalena's kitchen and has taken a liking to her watch - I shall have to make sure I get it back!
At lunch there was a Canadian lady from Alberta and a Dutch physiotherapist from Liverpool Royal Infirmary. He said there were no jobs in Holland but lots in Britain.
We walked around the village before a long wait d for our supper, again simple but very nice. So was the Camomile tea courtesy of Liptons who seem to sell all over the world but not much in Britain.
We were offered a sauna which Joan accepted then worried how she would cope, a three foot high door in the side wall full of wood and smoke, completely dark inside - still 'nothing ventured nothing gained'. After supper we were told it was ready and could candle in hand detect a brick fireplace with glowing embers a huge tub of hot water perched on top and on the bench was another tub with a cold water tap, over head was a blackened clothes line for our clothes.
We stripped off and enjoyed 20 minutes washing and soaping in beautiful soft warm water. 'An experience literally as warm as toast not to be missed'. We got into bed and slept well in a dorm shared with Gaspar and Andre, so Joan records she kept all her clothes on.
17 November
After a good breakfast, hot water for coffee, scrambled egg, a big bowl of beans, not washed and reheated, home made tortillas and boiled platina (banana). Tortillas are not usually my favorite but here they are made with freshly ground maize -still milky- making a wet dough with a taste much better than commercial ones. They are hand patted into shape and cooked on a hot plate over the fire.
We had walked around the village, by 8am the sun was lighting the walls of the mainly wood walled tiled houses, the mist was creeping back up to the surrounding hilltop and the wood smoke fires were starting up once again.
The women were starting to weave - mainly hupilles of very intricate patterns.
The headdresses of these Ixil people are about eight feet long and eight inches wide with four tassels on each end. Not souvenirs for tourists, we are almost the only outsiders here, but for everyday wear. It is wound round the plaited hair to hold it in place then tied over the crown so the four tassels are arranged on either side.
Hearing music from very loud speakers we walked up to a largish wooden with palm leaves pinned around the walls and coloured streamers along the verandah thinking it must be at least be a birthday party or wedding. Very smartly dressed ladies with immaculate head dresses. But no, it was a church service, presumably non conformist and definitely Sunday best dress this Wednesday. My recollection is that it was run by US evangelist missionaries.
We walked over to a farm we could see on the hillside near Azul, thinking the countryside was like Switzerland without the snow but with plenty of lush grass.
The farm's specialty was making cheese and we arrived at milking time with about twelve Jersey and six Hostein cows. We were taken into the dairy to see the ripening stock of cheeses, some were quite fresh still floating in the brine and the rest at various stages of maturation., some with a green mould forming on the skin. We bought a mature goats cheese, tasty and very different from Welsh soft goats cheese.
As we walked out of the village we passed the hacienda belonging to the owners, looking very Alpine with chalets for rent beside it. We followed the gushing river down out of the valley passed little waterfalls. Gaspar made Joan a cross of flowers with the aim of keeping her safe but she almost immediately fell flat on her hands, managing as usual to protect her artificial knees as first priority. We eventually reached a road junction where we waited for a pick up, not quite what we expected - a lorry full of logs. They put down a ladder for us to climb in - a new experience every day better than a cattle truck I guess wrote Joan.
First stop on the trek back to Nebaj was the cemetery of the dead from the recently finished war. There had been a terrible slaughter of the local fighters by the government forces. Our guide Gaspar was clearly keen to expose us to the tragedy and clearly used it to collect money, one hopes it goes to good causes
Back to our hotel Turansa, Nebaj and a different room with two beds but a welcome shower. Then some shopping in town buying some Christmas presents bags for the grandchildren, head scarves and woolen coloured juggling balls which I gave away to Geoff only to my shame stole them back. Great grandson Owen now plays his first word 'ball' with them. We found the bus station and identified what we thought was a bus starting next day at 5:30am for Coban.
Breakfast at Las Brasas very tasty cheeses omlette with fried banana, water melon and twice cooked frigoles then back to Posada El Arco to pick up our bags. Chichi has no bus station so it is neccesary to catch a passing bus. Whilst waiting and hoping at the crossroads above the hotel someone heard me trying to say Sacapulas and directed us to a minibus going to San Cruz del Quiche, the capital of Quiche. Joan records having a very comfortable seat but I was not as lucky for this 16 seater had a payload of 24 people, quite a feat!
After a 30 min drive we arrived at the bus station in San Cruz where the very same helpful man directed us to the bus for Nebaj. The helper on the minibus took Brian's bag to the new bus and put it on the roof. The empty bus gradually filled up to overflowing, as usual, over a 20 minute wait and picked up still more people on route. We both had comfortable seats for this four hour journey. The road was good to Sacapulas climbing at first then winding down into the fertile valley then crossing a large fast flowing river in the town. After that the road, fairly new but un-surfaced with landslides obviously a continual problem, wonderful views and blue skies as we climbed steeply to Nebaj.
On leaving Brian took a picture of the bus
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| NEBAJ BUS STATION |
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| OUR CONDUCTORS |
We went to the Municipal Offices in the square in the hopes of getting a street map of the town - but none were to be had. Looking around on the first floor balcony we could see a major excavation some fifteen feet deep apparently just to build new gardens. Senor Thomas Raymond came over to speak to us in good English and explained they were building an underground car park with decorative gardens on top, now all was clear forward thinking for a town with few cars.
 |
| NEBAJ SOON TO BE NEW MAIN SQUARE WITH UNDERGROUND CAR PARK |
We walked passed the Artisania stalls selling woven bags, cloth shawls hupiles and head dresses to intricate for me to put on!
Then got into conversation with a Dutch couple in an Internet cafe cum Spanish language school.They had been travelling Guatemala, Honduras and Belize flying in and out of Cancun in Mexico, they hadn't enjoyed Belize but every where else had been great.
Our policeman explained the three towns in the Nebaj area were Ixil people who spoke but didn't write their own language. Today the children are taught to read and write it using text books written by a lady from the US who had lived here for twelve years and during that time had learned their language. 'I'm afraid Brian and I don't agree about preserving old minority languages - he thinks they should be left to die out'. There are apparently 25 different tongues in Guatemala alone.
The women's costume here is very elaborate - we saw three women in the style yesterday in Chichicastenango market. The embroidery and back strap weaving is very intricate. Many of the women here are war widows, the war which finished in 1996, just eight years earlier, was fought by guerillas in the mountain whole villages also being destroyed.
16 November
Up early for breakfast, ejote - eggs french beans and rice, in the square where we met up with our guide and Andre his eight year old son.
Together we walked up and up and up with beautiful flowers and views, I did see my humming bird in a pine tree, I suppose that comes from having flowers. I called out Colobri, Spanish for humming bird, and Gaspar came running because he thought it was a snake. He said that here the humming bird is called Hijo de Quetzal, son of the Quetzals, which also has irridescent feathers but is very rare. It seems common enough to me for I have seen several!
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| BEANS BEING GROWN as second CROP UP MAIZE STALKS |
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| FARMING FAMILY JUST OUTSIDE NEBAJ |
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| ANDRE DEMONSTRATES WELL KNOWN GAME |
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| LEAVING NEBAJ |
We were very tired and acing when we reached the village where we were staying at La Posada Ixil Dona Magdalena a wonderful wooden building with a garden all around with lilys, geraniums, hollyhocks and canna lilies, colourful bushes and roses climbing the tree in front of the door.
 |
| OUR WELCOMING HOSTESS |
At lunch there was a Canadian lady from Alberta and a Dutch physiotherapist from Liverpool Royal Infirmary. He said there were no jobs in Holland but lots in Britain.
We walked around the village before a long wait d for our supper, again simple but very nice. So was the Camomile tea courtesy of Liptons who seem to sell all over the world but not much in Britain.
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| AZUL STREET SCENE |
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| BED REST WITH GASPAR'S SON ANDRE |
17 November
After a good breakfast, hot water for coffee, scrambled egg, a big bowl of beans, not washed and reheated, home made tortillas and boiled platina (banana). Tortillas are not usually my favorite but here they are made with freshly ground maize -still milky- making a wet dough with a taste much better than commercial ones. They are hand patted into shape and cooked on a hot plate over the fire.
We had walked around the village, by 8am the sun was lighting the walls of the mainly wood walled tiled houses, the mist was creeping back up to the surrounding hilltop and the wood smoke fires were starting up once again.
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| SUN RISE in AZUL |
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| AZUL VILLAGE WEAVER AT WORK |
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| AZUL VILLAGE SHOP |
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| AZUL PHARMACY |
We walked over to a farm we could see on the hillside near Azul, thinking the countryside was like Switzerland without the snow but with plenty of lush grass.
 |
| CHEESE MAKING FARM other side of VALLEY |
As we walked out of the village we passed the hacienda belonging to the owners, looking very Alpine with chalets for rent beside it. We followed the gushing river down out of the valley passed little waterfalls. Gaspar made Joan a cross of flowers with the aim of keeping her safe but she almost immediately fell flat on her hands, managing as usual to protect her artificial knees as first priority. We eventually reached a road junction where we waited for a pick up, not quite what we expected - a lorry full of logs. They put down a ladder for us to climb in - a new experience every day better than a cattle truck I guess wrote Joan.
First stop on the trek back to Nebaj was the cemetery of the dead from the recently finished war. There had been a terrible slaughter of the local fighters by the government forces. Our guide Gaspar was clearly keen to expose us to the tragedy and clearly used it to collect money, one hopes it goes to good causes
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| AZUL WAR MEMORIAL |
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| AZUL WAR CEMETERY |
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| LOCAL MEMORIAL CHURCH to WAR DEAD in wooden SHED |
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