Guatemala

I landed in Guatemala City, Guatemala on March 6th, 2023. It was a long journey as I had a 10 hour layover in Miami. All I wanted to do was lie down at that point. Immediately after getting through customs, I called an Uber to take me to Antigua, Guatemala. The weather was significantly cooler than I expected. It was slightly cloudy with a nice breeze. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t hot and humid either. Minutes after requesting a ride, my driver pulled up, and I was on my way. My driver played Cumbia music as we cruised with all the windows down. The wind felt incredible on my face as I observed everything happening around me. Schoolchildren conversed on the sidewalk in their uniforms. Stray dogs roamed the streets. Motorists on mopeds weaved through the traffic. Workers pushed carts with food products. Vendors sold fruits and vegetables from small, shaded stands. My ears began to pop as we went through the winding roads of the mountains. Although it was almost a 2 hour drive to my hotel, it was so scenic I didn’t care. By the way, my Uber ride was only $25. I felt a little bad about it because there’s no way drivers here are making a livable wage doing this.

I arrived at my hotel an hour before check-in, so I decided to walk to a nearby brewery, Antigua Brewing Company. The beer was mostly mediocre, but the bartender was friendly. Great beer isn’t something I expect to find in Latin America, but it’s an experience I still enjoy.

After beer, I walked around without a clear direction, exploring the cobblestone streets. There was constant movement in all directions from cars, scooters, and pedestrians. The unique thing about this is there are no traffic lights, but traffic moved smoothly somehow. Pedestrians walked confidently in front of moving vehicles without fear of getting hit. I wasn’t brave enough to attempt this, though. Tiredness was hitting me hard, but thankfully, my hotel room was now ready. Rest was essential as I was going on an 11 mile hike on a volcano in the morning.

I’ve been on many hikes before, but nothing prepared me for what I was about to attempt. Usually, when I hike, the max I would do is a 4 mile trail, mainly because of respiratory issues I’ve had since I was a child. I enjoy being on top of a mountain, but it’s exponentially more difficult for me to get there than an average person. Fearful thoughts consumed me. Am I capable of doing this? Is this a mistake? Is this how I die? Another part of me felt immense excitement for the journey ahead.

The plan was to hike Acetenango volcano to base camp and watch the eruptions of a nearby volcano called Fuego. I signed up for this hike through a tour group out of Tropicana Hostel. I boarded a bus with 25 strangers at 8:30 a.m., and we arrived two hours later. Everyone in the group was people in their 20s and 30s from all over the planet. We met our guides who gave us pertinent instructions.

Now, it was time to ascend the mountain. I struggled from the start because of how incredibly steep it was. Thirty minutes in, I was gasping for air. My head was throbbing and felt like it was about to explode. My chest started to tighten. I fell far behind my entire group. I asked one of the guides, “Esta lejos?” he responded that I was about 4 hours from the base camp and the hike would not get any easier. He then suggested I either take a taxi back to my hotel or rent a horse to take me to the top. He insisted that this would be too difficult for me. I thought about it for a second but refused both offers. I decided to keep going.

Simply putting one foot in front of the other was a struggle. My backpack felt like it weighed 200 pounds. One guide stayed within sight of me, and now and then, he’d ask if I wanted to stop. I’d wave my head no violently, and then he got on his radio and communicated to someone in Spanish something I didn’t understand. As I struggled, there were other groups passing me in both directions. Some gave me words of encouragement. Some offered drinks and snacks. I accepted a Pedialyte from one, thinking it would help. I threw it up minutes later, along with my breakfast. Soon, I was by myself. I was stumbling, dizzy, and unable to stand up straight. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would rip through my chest. I grabbed a tree and leaned against it while slowly lowering my body to the ground. I was nowhere close to the base camp. I started praying and pleading for the Lord to help me because I didn’t know what else to do.

As I sat there trying to get my bearings, a stray dog showed up and laid down next to me. He was crying and panting, so I gave him some water. I stood up and continued upwards, and the dog followed. He was a golden retriever(I think) so let’s call him Yellow. I was taking mostly short breaks every 2 minutes, and Yellow stopped with me. Sometimes, he’d run ahead and wait for me before continuing. I used this as motivation to keep going. I needed a way to make this hike feel less insurmountable, and Yellow provided a perfect way for me to do that. Each time he ran ahead, I wouldn’t stop until I reached him. Then we would take a break. It was usually only 300-500 feet at a time, but I did this repeatedly.

Eventually, I caught up with one of the guides that was waiting for me. He offered to carry my bag for me, which I gladly accepted. He tells me that we are almost there. This was the motivation I needed. An hour later, we still haven’t arrived, and he says, “Almost there, Chico.” I didn’t believe him anymore because we clearly had different definitions of “almost.” The temperature began to drop as we got closer to the top. Yellow, who’s been quiet the entire time, starts barking at the air, it seems like, nonstop. Then he takes off into the woods and disappears. The guide tells me we must pick up the pace to get there before sunset as it will make things significantly harder. It felt like a never ending mountain. There was no plateau, only constant upward movement. As we continued, I heard a loud explosion and saw a massive cloud of smoke coming from a volcano up ahead. It was the most beautiful natural phenomenon I’d ever witnessed. This was a clear sign that we were super close. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my left leg. I was feeling the worst cramps of my life. I fell to the ground and screamed in pain. I tried my best to stand back up, but it was futile. Minutes later, I forced myself up in an attempt to walk it off. I willed my way forward until I got sight of the base camp.

The moment I arrived, there was loud applause. People gave me high fives, congratulations and individually told me how inspiring I was. This was much needed because, for a moment, I felt like a failure, but this shifted my perspective. My regular life is a daily struggle because of how different I process things neurologically from most others. I eventually accomplish my goals, but it usually takes me longer and requires more effort. This hike was a metaphor for my life. It taught me that despite my supposed shortcomings, I can do anything. As I limped onto the camp and sat down, the volcano erupted again. The sound of the explosion, combined with the vibration of the ground, made this strenuous experience worth it.

As night descended, the temperature dropped precipitously. The volcano continued to erupt repeatedly, about every 10-15 minutes. The intensity of the eruptions was different each time. Sometimes, it was only a little smoke. Other times, it was a lot of smoke with lava protruding high and swiftly into the air. To keep warm during the show, a bonfire was started. We roasted marshmallows, played music, drank wine, and had great conversations into the early morning. As I talked to the other hikers, I realized that most of us were either from Europe, USA, or Canada. I was the only black man in the group, which puts in perspective the primary demographics attempting such a difficult hike. These are Caucasian activities.

I went to bed around midnight, but there was a unique sleeping arrangement. We all slept together in two large tents, each with two levels. There were dozens of sleeping bags laid out next to each other at the top and bottom levels. My assigned spot was at the top, so I climbed the ladder and into my bag with my coat on. I was still a little cold but comfortable. We had to be up at 4:30 am for our final hike to the summit to catch the sunrise so we’d be hiking in the middle of the night. One of the guides suggested I sit this one out, as this hike, although shorter than yesterday, was much steeper. I’m stubborn though, and decided I was doing it anyway.

With only 4 hours of sleep, I woke up full of energy and ready to go. I hopped out of bed, brushed my teeth, and adjusted my headlamp atop my head. The hike started, and I once again struggled to keep up with my group. It was constant winding turns up a steep incline. All I could see were white lights from others' headlamps, moving in the distance above me. My goal was to stay in view of the other lights so I wouldn’t be alone in the dark. I could barely see in front of me but heard voices yelling out to me, “Almost there, Chico!”. I felt like a crab in a boiling pot with how my legs were burning. I saw the end in sight and pushed my way to the top.  I finally made it and immediately plopped myself on a rock in exhaustion. I was above the clouds as the sky lit up in orange and yellow, with clear views of Fuego volcano.

After about 20 minutes, it was time to go down the volcano to return to Antigua, which I wrongly assumed would be much easier than going up. This time, I was given a walking stick to use. It was easy at first, but then I slipped and fell on the gravel, which caused a sharp pain in the back of my left leg and knee. I tried to walk, but every step I took was excruciating. Each step felt like a sledgehammer ramming into my knee. The steeper the decline, the worse the pain was. My group was nowhere in sight at this point, and other hiking groups were speeding past me. As I continued, my walking stick snapped in half. Frustrated, I threw the remnants of it on the ground while cursing. One of the guides saw me struggling and gave me his stick, which was much stronger. If he only knew how grateful I was. One person I walked by suggested I step first with the injured leg. I followed his suggestion and kept moving. I reached a flatter surface and decided to speed up the pace as the pain was minimal. This turned out to be a mistake. I felt a pain so sharp I collapsed to the ground and let out a loud, audible sound. I got up and kept going, feeling I was keeping everyone from going home. The rest of my group had multiple breaks, but for fear of keeping them waiting for me long, I didn’t stop.

What seemed like many hours later, I spotted my group in the distance, standing in a circle. I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. I had done it. I completed 11 miles round trip of the most difficult hike of my life. The amount of pride I had in myself in that moment made it all worth it. This isn’t something I would ever attempt again, but I’m so glad I did it.

The moment I returned, I wanted to get food and drinks. I limped my way to a nearby BBQ spot. It was a Texas influenced restaurant, a fact I didn’t know until I walked in. It seemed full of tourists as most of the patrons spoke English. I was skeptical, but the food was decent. After eating, I headed to a brewery less than a block away called El Deposito. As I sampled different beers, a guy beside me asked me where I was from. This sparked a conversation, and I learned he’s an American expat living in Guatemala. He introduced me to his friends, who are also expats. All of us drank and talked for hours. It felt good not to struggle to communicate with my limited Spanish knowledge. Exhaustion was hitting me hard, so I bid them farewell and returned to my hotel. My journey continued the next day.

The following morning, I walked into a random breakfast spot called Cafe Boheme. It was my final meal in Antigua before continuing my journey to the city of Panajachel. As I ate, a woman approached me and excitedly greeted me, telling me how much I inspired her. I didn’t remember her, but she was in my hiking group. This would happen to me repeatedly as I traversed the country. My impact was larger than I expected.

Hours later, I hopped on a shuttle bus to Panajachel. It’s only a 50 mile(80 km) trip, but because of the infrastructure, it would take 3 hours. Shuttles are the primary source of transportation for foreign visitors to make their way around the major cities in Guatemala. The shuttle stopped about 5 or 6 more times to pick up other people. Each time, a man climbed on top of the roof as the driver threw new luggage on top. It was all strapped down securely with a rope. The ride became more uncomfortable because of my long legs as the interior filled with people. The journey still felt short because of the mountainous scenery and the great conversations I had with the other riders.

Panajachel would be less about adventure and more about relaxation. This was much needed as I was still in much pain from my hike. I walked down to Lake Atitlán, where I sat and enjoyed the view. This was named the most beautiful lake in the world. As a lover of nature, I was in my element. Relaxation would prove difficult as children kept approaching me, trying to sell me souvenirs. One was so persistent that I purchased a keychain from him so he would leave me alone. As night came, so did the mosquitoes, so I decided to take a walk.

Nightlife was more active than I expected. Every street was full of vendors selling hats, t-shirts, fruits, and traditional clothing. There were as many stray dogs as people. Restaurant employees begged me to dine in as I walked by them.

I was hungry, so I took one up on her offer. My steak, beans, and plantain were top notch. As I ate my meal, I noticed a little girl walking into the restaurant. She appeared to be about 6-8 years old. She headed straight for my table. It was like everyone else in the restaurant was invisible. She opened a box with a bunch of stuff she was trying to sell. Each time I said no, she would offer me a different deal. Eventually, I started ignoring her, hoping she would go away. The moment I turned away, she started tapping my arm repeatedly, yelling “Amigo!” over and over. One of the restaurant employees rushed over and shooed her away. I thought, “Finally, I can enjoy my meal.” Seconds later, a stray dog approached me, resting his head on my lap. I’m guessing he was hungry, but so was I. The same restaurant employee comes over, shoos the dog away, and apologizes. Twenty minutes later, the little girl comes back again. I was so tired of her, I decided to buy something but didn’t have enough cash on me. I told her this in Spanish, but she obviously didn’t believe me as she kept trying. She walked away with a look of disappointment, like she was about to cry, and I never saw her again. The children seemed to be out hustling from morning until night. Their sales tactics were admittedly really good. I couldn’t help but wonder how much success they’d have as adults living in the USA with these same skills. All they need is opportunity. I don’t know their stories, but I can only assume they are aggressive salespeople out of necessity and survival. After my meal, I continued walking.

I didn’t know where I was going, but the more I walked, the more lively the streets became. Cars, mopeds, and Tuk Tuks clogged the streets. Loud music played from the numerous bars and nightclubs. I wanted a more chill vibe, so I walked into one of the more quiet bars. The plan was to have one drink and walk back to my hotel. Two Guatemalan guys sitting next to me at the bar were super excited to see me. They excitedly talked to me in Spanish. I didn’t understand much of what they were saying, but thankfully, the bartender spoke fluent English. They kept buying me drinks. The next thing I knew, we were all drunk and taking selfies. Soon, the two guys left, and only the bartender and I were in the bar. She started playing 90s R&B on the speaker system. We talked music and sang together for hours. It was getting late, so I gave her a long list of music recommendations and closed my tab. We exchanged social media info, and I was on my way since I had another shuttle to catch in the morning.

The next morning was off to a crazy start. I was supposed to take a shuttle from Panajachel to Lanquin, but after an hour of waiting, it still hadn’t arrived. I contacted the company through WhatsApp and was informed that a mistake had been made. I was mistakenly booked for the wrong day, so a shuttle wasn’t coming, and nothing else was going out that day.

After about a half hour of back and forth texts, I was offered a private car to transport me to Lanquin without having to pay extra for it. This setback worked in my favor, preventing me from being crammed on a packed shuttle with 15 other people for 9 hours. It was a relaxed and comfortable journey. We weaved through the massive mountains on a rocky road with the most amazing views I’d ever seen. My driver stopped for gas, so I took that opportunity to stretch and buy snacks. Walking outside felt like I walked directly into an oven. It was the most intense the sun had felt thus far in Guatemala. The drive continued, and we arrived at the destination right before sunset.

My hotel had unique living arrangements. Each guest was given their own tent to sleep in. There were outdoor pools, shared bathrooms, and an outdoor restaurant/bar area. My tent happened to be at the top of a steep hill. The bathrooms were at the base of the hill, so I got a nice workout every time I had to pee, shower, or brush my teeth.

The draw of Lanquin is the Semuc Champey pools. This was the last stop on my journey and one of the top highlights of my trip. There were several tour options for this, but I had little desire to swim through dark caves, which was a part of every package. The next morning, I walked down to a spot where tourist guides and shuttle cars gathered. From here, I could book a ride to Semuc Champey with one of the locals. I paid the equivalent of $30 cash, and minutes later, he called a ride to pick me up. I hopped in the back of a car with a middle aged man in the driver’s seat, an elderly couple sitting next to me, and a teenager seated in the front passenger seat. On our way, traffic was at a standstill in areas with heavy construction. We stopped multiple times and waited as long as an hour for the construction vehicles to let us through. Each time we had to stop, locals approached motorists selling fruits and cold beverages. They clearly were intentionally setting up near construction sites with backed up traffic. I can’t knock the hustle.

A couple of hours later, we finally arrived. I paid my entrance fee of 50 GTQ and followed the path. The path split in two. One direction would take me to a top view of the pools, while the other would take me directly to the pools. I opted to go to the top first. I followed the never ending wooded stairs to the top. It was strenuous but mostly shaded by trees and other greenery. As I struggled to the top, women were holding up fruits and drinks they were selling. They yelled out “mango,” “pina,” and “agua” as I ascended. I was upset at myself because I miscalculated how much cash I would’ve needed here, and there were no ATMs in sight. I was dehydrated, but there was nothing I could do about it. The view at the top was spectacular, though. I stood gazing at the cascading turquoise waters. After an hour or so, I decided it was time to dip my feet in it. I headed back down and took the other path. There were European and Asian tourists everywhere, but I was able to find a secluded spot to play in the water. I reflected on my time in this beautiful country as I sat on a rock, moving my legs back and forth in the water.

The fun was almost over, and I had to figure out how to get back to my hotel. As I headed for the exit, a kid approached me, asking if I needed a ride. I gladly accepted and hopped into the bed of a pickup truck with four other people already inside. We all stood and held onto the metal railing fixed in the middle as we traversed through the rocky terrain. At one point, we moved through a narrow path at the edge of the mountain as a tanker passed us, going in the opposite direction. The truck looked centimeters from falling off the cliff, but I wasn’t super worried about it. Once we returned to the city, I hailed a Tuk Tuk to take me the rest of the way to my hotel. I rested up before a long journey back to Guatemala City.

I booked a one day hotel stay in Guatemala City since I was flying back home the following morning. I walked to a nearby jazz bar for a quick dinner but didn’t wander much afterward, as this part of the country is considered super dangerous. I was sad that the trip was ending, but for the first time since I started international traveling, I had another human waiting for me at home. I missed her very much.

There were several takeaways from this trip. I learned that I have a high level of fortitude. Maybe it’s just stubbornness, but I can’t tell the difference. I learned that the way I live my life has the power to inspire people. I learned that I work incredibly well under pressure in a relaxed environment. Most of all, this trip has increased my empathy, especially for people of Latin American descent. I’ll never forget Guatemala and the life lessons it instilled in me. Hasta Luego!