Costa Rica 7 September, 1999

Heredia, Costa Rica
9/7/99
Hey Mom and Dad:
Hope all is well with you. It will come as not great surprise that we’re living large. Today is Carol’s and Dixie’s birthday so we’re having a party tonight. Just what I need, another excuse to drink down here. I’m getting too old for this stuff☺
Once again I’ve been able to experience one of my greatest joys in life, to wit: traveling in less developed areas of the world. I always feel a quickening sense of life in places like this. I hate the term “Third World,” but for the sake of brevity, it works. When I travel to a place where people live on the edge there’s always a more acute sense of what’s real and what’s not – of what’s really important, and what we tend to think is important in our daily lives, but really isn’t at all. There’s a beauty and simplicity to life and in the small successes which each day brings to us, if we only recognize them when they occur, as they do to each of us.
Guatemala has been a terrific start to our trip. It gets such bad press in the states for being a dangerous location for travel, but we encountered people from all over the world whose countries are not caught up in the hemispheric politics. It was quite an eye opener to see the variety of travelers – families from Spain, businessmen from Sweden, two single girls from Scotland, and lots of young people from all over who recognize the beauty of the country and it’s people and who have come to study at one of the myriad Spanish schools located there.
A midnight departure from SFO guaranteed a tired twosome upon arrival in Guatemala City early on Sunday morning. A $25 taxi ride brought us to Antigua, 45 minutes away by road, but centuries away in attitude and customs. Antigua, the old capitol of Central America when the Spaniards ruled the entire area was leveled by an earthquake and the officials decided another location might be in order. Still the city thrived in its colonial mold and today it’s like stepping back in time. Cobblestone streets are the only streets in the town. Buildings date from the 1500’s for those which survived the earthquake and the entire city seems to have gone under some moratorium for new building some time in the 1800’s. The town center remains a simple reminder of times less complex. The city square around the cathedral is a microcosm of life itself. Girls hawk simple bracelets woven from fabric spun as it has been done for centuries, by drop spindle. Young boys sell gum, shine shoes, hawk newspapers, and generally do anything they can to supplement the family’s meager income. The whole town seems to have an air of tranquility with a gentility of spirit.
The overriding feature of life here is the spirit of the indigenous population. Guatemala has the largest percentage of full blooded native Indians - 70% with another 20% of mixed blood. But while we must look like fat cats to their poverty, we continue to be struck by the friendliness of the people and the happy faces we’ve met in our five days here. People who live below the poverty line according to international standards are seemingly unaffected by that fact. They laugh all the time at almost everything, are incredibly friendly to strangers always saying hello when passing on the street, and helping in whatever they can. Never have we faced any hostility – never a surly word or face have we encountered. I can’t emphasize that enough! They books tell us that 87% of the people live below the poverty level, but as always it’s poor by our standards. But that’s like trying to place our values on their customs. If they have no expectations of our priorities and all they need is provided for are they really poor because they don’t have internet service? We are so keen to put our values on other cultures. This is not to negate serious problems, but they have decent clothing, live in a warm climate, and do not seem undernourished. The markets are filled with goods bought and sold on their economic level, and seemingly, their needs are met. There is little crime projected onto the more affluent visitors. There is little begging, and on the whole, the people seem healthy and happy. So we left a little perplexed.
We spent our first three days in Antigua looking at local handicrafts, checking out hotels (so I can write off the trip) and slowly catching up on sleep. On one occasion when we were at a cooperative for local handicrafts, Carol was thoroughly fascinated by the whole scene. She loved everything she saw, and I enjoyed watching her enjoy herself. A few of the women asked me if they could help me, and I said: “No thank you, my wife is in heaven.” They all quickly crossed themselves and hoped that she was resting in peace. Carol heard all this and about died laughing so hard. That would have really confused them if she had. I quickly explained that she wasn’t dead, but merely totally enjoying herself. A little bit of foreign language is a dangerous thing in the hands of someone like me. I too often try direct translations and that just doesn’t work.
Meals are very cheap and with excellent preparation, a combination which endeared itself to the two of us. We ate a wonderful dinner at a great restaurant, which had the distinction, they thought so at least, of having Slick Willy eat there when he was doing his presidential thing. Our meal cost $10, which was probably $10 more than he paid. The joke was that he had all male waiters for the evening. See, they do have a great sense of humor.
We took a bus ride out to a small pueblo where we could see some different artisans at work. We rode for 20 minutes to a village and were going to walk the remaining two miles to the next village When we asked directions to make sure we got the right fork in the road, we were told to wait for the next bus. We tried to explain that we wanted to walk, ut they insisted that we take the bus. It cost us an extra .10 cents for the ride. On the way back since we knew the directions, we didn’t ask. We just walked do we got our leisurely stroll anyway.
The stereotypical “dirty” latin country just doesn’t exist in Antigua. We were amazed at the pride the people have in their city and how well they keep it clean. As I mentioned, there is very little begging. In five days, we were approached only four times. Each time, it was by somebody who couldn’t earn a living because they were horribly crippled or deformed. But never by people capable of working, just to lazy to do so.
There are artisans everywhere trying to sell their good. How they can earn a living is impossible to figure out. There are literally thousands of people selling very similar items, and very few tourists at this time of the year. Yet, they are polite, not pushy, and are happy to show you their wares in a cheerful way. It makes saying “no” difficult to do. The kids are really little dolls, and are a lot of fun to bargain with. Of course, even after bantering and bargaining, you’re paying too much, buy what’s the difference. The prices are so ridiculously low we never get too serious about it. Often after the fun of trying to get the price lower, we pay the original amount. We feel so cheap to do otherwise when we have so much and they’re just trying to get through the day.
Travel in and around Guatemala is very unscheduled. There are mini vans which go from one town to the next when it’s filled, and I mean filled. There’s always room for one more person with a box if chickens to sell at market. Taxis also can be hired, but it’s far more fun to do the local thing.
A trip to Chichicestango and Lake Atiltan completed our journey to the center of the country. We scheduled our visit to Chichi on Sunday to take advantage of Sunday market, when thousands of indigenous people converge on the streets to buy, sell, exchange, and barter there goods. It’s as colorful as anything we ever saw in Peru or Ecuador. The traditional dress is not something which the locals don for Christmas parades, or mid summer’s night. It’s the daily wear, every day. All commodities from some wild looking foods to kitchen utensils to auto parts are all strewn out on the streets for viewing as you weave your way in and around the makeshift stands and shawls spread out on the ground. A wonderful look in the people’s lives was all there just for the eyes to feast upon.