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Even
though there is no way to reach Livingston except by
boat, we still needed to go by land to Guatemala's
capitol city and then to Rio Dulce first.
At 7 a.m., we were able to catch the bus at the corner
of our street in
Antigua. For 8Q's per
person, we had the privilege of experiencing The Ride
from Hades! Every hair pin turn found us slammed
into our seatmate. There was no slowing this driver
down, and there was nothing gentle about the ride.
The
bus was fully packed with passengers sitting 3 or more
to benches on both sides of the bus, plus people
standing in the aisle. After twenty or thirty minutes of
this vigorous and embarrassing smashing into strangers on both sides
of me, any effort to maintain a sense of sophistication
seemed absurd. Still, I had to rustle up my courage to
ask the handsome man next to me (whom I felt I almost
knew personally by now) about which bus we were to take
to get us to Rio Dulce.
A far
more comfortable bus to get us to the river.
Rolling his eyes to the heavens let me know that he
thought we were complete idiots.
It's one of the things
that I enjoy about city dwellers. There is no hesitation
in giving me a look that lets me know that - while
I have traveled the world - I am still a country
bumpkin to this man who lives among millions by choice.
"Reee-oh
DOOOOOL-SAAAAAY," he says to me and then sucks in
his bottom lip. "Why that bus station is
on the other side of town!"
What?!?!
Relieved to get out of this bus, we jumped off at the
next stop, right in the middle of belching exhaust,
street vendors, foot traffic and horrendous horn
honking. But the fine featured man with a hesitancy to
smile assured us that we should just take the next taxi to -
well, - to the bus station that would take us to Rio Dulce!
Silly
us! Of course!
Billy
grabs a taxi, bargains a ride for 25Q's and we
make the station just in time to catch the 9:30 a.m. bus
to the sweet river town.
Map
of our water route to Livingston
We
arrive in Rio Dulce at 4 p.m. Bounced and bumped on the
first bus, we endured a boring, dusty ride on the
second. Anxious to get out and about after all this
sitting, we promptly find a room right on the river for the night,
and check into boats that will take us to Livingston the
following morning.
After
a quick and much needed shower, we head into town to see
what's cookin'.
Our
first grazing is delicious!
10Q's each for Carne asada with chile, 3 tortillas and black beans. A great
price with solid Guatemalan flavor. After a trying day on the road,
we are looking forward to some delectable food options
and a leisurely walk riverside. Picture perfect vendors and street stalls are
everywhere.
Billy takes out his camera to take a photo
and --
Phhhhhttt!!
His cameral no
longer works!
A bit
peeved, we go back to the hotel, and --
Phhhhhtttt!!!
The whole town
is without lights.
In the darkness
of our hotel room and by flashlight, we discuss our
options. We just left two of Guatemala's largest cities
with millions of residents and where cameras can easily be repaired or purchased. We are now
heading into less populated areas of Central America for the next 2 months
with little or no options for either.
Should we repeat
that grueling bus trip back to Guate City or Antigua to
repair or replace the camera? With the travel and repair
this would easily take a week and delay our entry into
Belize by that same amount of time. Or should we move
forward into
Livingston and Belize with a major piece of our
travel equipment not functioning?
This was not a
small decision for us, as each choice had their
limitations.
Arriving in Livingston by water taxi
This
was an
unexpected travel glitch comparable to being on a
bicycle tour and having a bent tire rim.
Billy
and I are the types who are inclined to continue moving
forward into the unknown rather than going back trying
to recoup things. It was disturbing and distressful not
to have an operable camera, but we thought we would
take our chances on the future.
Morning arrives and we hop aboard the boat that will
take us to our last stop in Guatemala. Our trip down the
Rio Dulce went as planned and the scenery was awesome.
Not having a workable camera, Billy was pained watching scene after photographable scene
pass him by.
**Editor's Note **
Traveling poses
challenges on many levels and unexpected things happen.
If being on the road was the same as being back home, why
leave, right? We are now into the third month of our
Mexico-Central America adventure and we’ve hit a few
snags along the way.
Our reliable GPS unit stopped functioning somewhere along the
Pacific coast of Mexico and cannot be fixed until I send
it back to Garmin. My eye glasses needed to be repaired twice
for two different issues in two separate locations. The
power cord on our PC started shorting out,
requiring professional attention in Tuxtla Guetierrez, Chiapas.
Other than the GPS, all of these problems were able to
be resolved easily and in short order.
But it was after leaving Antigua - a major hub in
Guatemala with plenty of shops and supplies - and
arriving in Rio Dulce, a small “pass through” town, that
our camera completely stopped working. For us, our
camera is a major piece of equipment on our travels.
It was decision time.
Should we turn back and re-travel the tedious 9 hours by bus to
Antigua and try to get our camera mended? This might
take a week or more and consequently delay our entry into Belize by
that same amount of time. We could possibly purchase a
new camera while in Antigua or maybe it would be better
to just continue forward with our trip from where
we are here in Rio Dulce without a camera in hopes that we can find
something suitable somewhere along the way.
This was not a small decision for us as all the choices
had their limitations. Ultimately, we chose to move
forward and take our chances.
Our trip down the Rio Dulce to the very small town
of Livingston - reachable only by boat and located in
the small bay of Amatique on the Caribbean Sea - went as
planned and the scenery was awesome. Not having a
functional camera, I was more than frustrated watching
scene after photographable scene pass me by.
Arriving in the humble and historic fishing village of
Livingston we again knocked around the idea of returning
to Antigua. At lunch we asked our
waiter if there was a shop nearby that could help us
with our delemma.
Low and behold here in this town of 6,000 people there
was ONE camera. Looking at it I wondered how long it had
been sitting on the shelf, here in the humidity and
heat. Still it was an option...
The man who checked us in at our hotel suggested that we
should go to the larger port city of Puerto Barrios because
they would have more of a selection.
The next morning we found ourselves on the 7:30 AM water
taxi for the forty minute ride to the international
shipping town of Puerto Barrios. The photo shop we
found offered the much larger selection of TWO cameras. We
acquired our piece of equipment - not exactly what we
would have chosen under different circumstances but it
was better than having nothing - relaxed
a bit checking out the town, had some lunch and returned
via water taxi back to Livingston.
So what’s the point to this narrative?
The point is that while traveling - and in Life - unexpected
things are going to happen. In all of our years of
being on the road we have never had this many equipment
challenges in such a short time. Yet we solved each one
as it arose - all in foreign countries and in unfamiliar
surroundings. There was no Wal*Mart on the corner
and we couldn't simply go online, order something and have it shipped to us while we were in
transit.
While at times
traveling can be frustrating, it also develops
confidence in one's ability to move forward into the unknown.
It is taking a leap of faith and it cultivates a sense
of self-reliance, which has always been our style.
Boat
service schedule in Livingston
Livingston is at the edge of the country where the
river meets the sea, and has
its own unique society unlike anything we have ever
seen.
We
heard of the Garifuna culture but had never before
encountered it.
In 1635 Spanish ships were
transporting slaves from Nigeria in Africa to their colonies in
America when their ships wrecked just off the Caribbean island of
St. Vincent. Survivors of the wreck took refuge on that island.
The Garinagu (plural of Garifuna) are
the living descendants of these African slaves and the Caribs
who lived on St. Vincent.
At
first there was conflict between the Africans and the
Caribs, but the Caribs were already weakened by wars and
disease and it was difficult to maintain their societal
sovereignty. Eventually the race became predominantly black
with some Carib blood and they were known by the British
as the Black Caribs.
Billy
has a
Caribbean soul he can barely control... and he found a
piece of it here!
In
the language of the Black Caribs, they called themselves
Garinagu or Garifuna.
In
1783 the British imposed a treaty on the Garifuna, but
the treaty was never accepted by them. They continued to
defy British rule and that defiance resulted in even
more
physical clashes. In 1796 the colonial authorities
decided to deport the native and unruly people. Hunted
down by the British, their homes and way of living were
destroyed.
Eventually, a few thousand survivors were shipped to the
island of Roatan off the coast of Honduras. Not long
after that, the Spanish took over the island and shipped the
agriculturally proficient Garifuna to the mainland of
Honduras where their skills were in great demand.
Eventually,
their culture and their numbers spread to Belize,
Guatemala and other areas along the coast. Today, there
are Garifuna populations in New Orleans, Los Angeles and
London.
The local cyber cafe with
Caribbean style colors
Most
Garifuna speak Spanish, some English and their own
Garifuna language which is a mixture of Arawak,
French, Yuroba, Banti, and Swahili words.
There
are many legends, myths and misconceptions about the
Garifuna. They still share their dialect, circular
dances, religious practices, Punta rhythms, banana
cultivation, and rooster and pig sacrifices with the
indigenous people of the Amazon. The majority of Garifuna
in these Central American areas
have only reached the 3rd to 6th grades of school.
Garifuna drum music is internationally famous
Known
as the Pulse of the Punta, you can experience this
regional dance with a fast beat in the bars in town. Or
you can purchase one of the CD's being offered by the locals.
Excellent sandwich shop
There
are small eateries everywhere and are worth seeking out.
The main drag generally attracts the tourists who come
through, but the smaller places on the side streets will give you a chance
to hang out with those who live here full time.
We
always like to get local, as we find it more
interesting.
Grilled fresh bread, and newly caught fish
While walking down one of these narrow streets, we discovered a sandwich
shop that offered tasty bargains. This huge
made-to-order sandwich cost only 20Q's or about $2.50.
It's hard to
maintain a specialized diet when on the road. It is
our tendency to eat the local offerings and submerge
ourselves in day-to-day of where we are. We can guarantee that
this is NOT a low-cal option!
Yummy.
Human
baby
or recently hatched chick?
Not
sure whose idea this was, but it expresses the
creativity and sense of humor of the people in the area.
Perhaps we missed a deeper
meaning...?... but I couldn't possibly tell you what it
would be.
Garifuna story teller
This
is Polo. Or Richard. It depends on what day one speaks with
him.
Polo
had tales to tell longer than his arm and we were
curious. Offering him a cold drink of his choice
anywhere he wanted to go brought us to Buga Mamas - an
open air restaurant with a sea view where we listened to
his personal history, stories and perspectives.
Decades ago, his job was to unload cases of
Coca-Cola from a truck into the neighboring restaurants
and bars. In an unguarded moment, a case of coke fell
directly on his thumb, splitting it open. Being a Garifuna drummer, this was terrible news, as he could no
longer work lifting the cases of coke and could no longer drum
in the bars at night.
Living in the tropics, his thumb eventually became
infected and "swole up, size of my foot.."
A
kind and funky-looking hippie took pity on his condition
and gave him 200 Quetzales. This paid for medical care
for that damaged thumb, and the two became fast friends. Soon
Polo was securing fresh fish, any sort of living
supplies and ganga for this man. The odd looking
eccentric then gave Polo a guitar and taught him how to
play.
Jerry
Garcia was his name (yes, that Jerry Garcia of Grateful
Dead fame), and their association lasted for
years. They became such trusted friends that Garcia paid
Polo's way to the University of Illinois.
Polo
continued telling tales that could have been straight
out of one of Carlos Castaneda's books. These stories
were complete with apparitions of Oltec Indians, caves
full of jade and other semi-precious stones, time travel
in dreams and amazing synchronicities.
They were so wild
and off the charts that
they were completely
believable.
And all we were
drinking was iced tea... Honest.
The Adventurer's Guide to
Guatemala
Don’t go to
Guatemala without this book! Take advantage of what we know. Click
here
Garinagu call Livingston "La Buga"
La
Buga (lah BOO-gah) is the name the Garinagu use for the
town of Livingston. Buga means river mouth in their
language.
A term of
respect and endearment given to women in the town is "Buga
Mama." And you don't wanna mess with these Mamas!
A
Buga Mama hands us an amazing Garifuna meal
Street food comes in all styles, and this is some of
Livingston's finest.
Down
by the dock, several Buga Mamas set up their mobile
restaurants around noon. Patrons come by and purchase
their lunch and sit in the shade of a frangipani or
jacaranda tree.
20Q's
buys this dee-licious Garifuna lunch
Chicken, slaw, fried plantains and red beans and rice.
Chicken stew broth is ladled over the rice and beans for
extra flavor. No one goes hungry with these meals! On
the tables are vegetables marinated in spicy jalapeno
juice and red peppers.
A
word of caution! These vegetables are spicy!
Colorful Caribbean flavor mixes with
Guatemalan culture
There
were times and places where we thought we were on a
Caribbean Isle and found ourselves looking for
Margaritaville!
Main
street in humble, historic La Buga leads straight to the
sea
It's
a simple town and yet there is more to it than what meets
the eye. Cruise ships land and tourists walk the streets
in groups. Locals have their own manner of speaking and
interrelationship. The town has its unique blend of
seaside life, African infusion, Spanish speaking Latino
influence, Caribbean tone and ancient Maya perspective.
We, of course,
sat back and relaxed in the shade enjoying
the slow passing of time.
Caribbean and African colors mix with Garifuna music
The
Garifuna make their presence known and are proud of
their creative, individualistic nature.
Dirt roads along
Amatique Bay
One day we
decided to discover more about our location, and took a
walk along Amatique Bay. This is a small bay before the Golf of Honduras
which is before the Caribbean Sea.
It's a peaceful
side of town
and easy going with brightly colored cottage style
houses and picket fences dotted along the way.
Billy
taking a rest in the shade
Like
a fishing net, Livingston life is intertwined with the
river, the sea, fishing and boats. There is no
separating them.
Freshly caught and ready to eat!
It's
an uncomplicated life and the fishing is good! Many
locals take advantage of the opulence of the sea. It's
quick eating, the price is right, and one can always
sell their catch to the restaurants in town.
Not
grand beaches, but lovely nonetheless
Leisurely walking on the dirt paths that connect this
river town to Amatique Bay, we stopped at a shack-styled
bar and had an afternoon beer.
There
were two tables and 4 stools. A Garifuna woman was
sitting on one of the stools, letting her thoughts drift
out to sea.
Interrupting her reverie we exchanged pleasantries, then inquired, "What’s
the name of this bay?"
"Livingston.
All
of this is Livingston."
"But what’s the name of the bay
of water here?" we pursued.
"Livingston. All of this is
Livingston. It’s Livingston water" she clarified.
"And out there? Is that the Gulf
of Honduras? Then the Caribbean Sea?" we pressed
just a little further.
"Yeah. But right
here it’s all Livingston."
And
that is all we needed to know. There was no point in
getting all snarled up over something that wasn't
important or had nothing to do with life right here in
the moment.
How
could it possibly matter what someone calls the water so
far out in a place she'll never go?
It's a beautiful day, the sea is lapping the shore, and
there's a fine breeze.
'Nuff
said!
Some
peaceful hideaways with ocean views are available also
around Amatique Bay
Gil’s Resort was
really sweet. It provided good views of the bay, the
hotel was clean and a
restaurant was downstairs as well.
The
swimming pool behind Gil's
At
400 Quetzales a night the rooms were bright and the
hotel had a good location.
Cell phone and camera repair
shop back in town
We
had not given up on the idea of getting our camera
repaired in this tiny town. We had already inquired
about purchasing one. Lo and behold, in this town of
6,000 people, there was only one lone camera to buy.
Then
we discovered "John's Place." John repairs cell
phones and was willing to take a look at our equipment.
After a couple of days, John informs us that due to a
defective wire ribbon, our camera cannot be dependably
fixed in the time frame we have.
So Billy
gave John our camera in payment for his efforts and to
John, it was like Christmas! He knew that he could
purchase a wire ribbon at some point in the future and
have a working camera, something he could never have
afforded on his own.
His
wife was so pleased, she gave me an orange!
For
free!
Boats
waiting for passengers
Getting around the area is done by boat. Across the
river, up the river, around the bend in the bay -- all
the small towns and villages are reached by water taxi.
Off
we go to tour the area
Miramar is a village close by and for 4Q's each we
grabbed a public launcha to take us there. We
float through peaceful, tropical beauty and see some homes
on the shore that are right out
of Architectural Digest. We're not sure what we'll find
in Miramar, but that's part of the mystery!
Arriving in lush, beautiful Miramar
If
you love the sea or river life, you could find a niche
in this area of Central America and fashion your own
version of paradise. The land is lush, the views are
gorgeous, and there is no belching city traffic.
The Garifuna speak
both Spanish and English and the Maya speak
Spanish as their second language, so knowing some
Spanish would be useful.
Tropical green extravagance
Not
too far from leaving the dock we find ourselves in the
midst of lush greenery. Worn dirt paths and an
occasional cement platform tie the mountain homes
together.
A
whimsical footpath through the jungle
It
was other-worldly walking on this path through the dense
jungle on both sides. Where were we going? It was like
being Alice in Wonderland.
The
local Maya population
We
popped out into a clearing of sorts with homes scattered
here and there on either side of the pathway. Young Maya
girls marry around the age of 18 and are soon pregnant.
Women stay home and raise the family and the men travel
to wherever they can find work.
These
young women were friendly yet shy, and their command of
Spanish was limited. However, across the path was a
Maya woman with whom we were able to chat for some time.
A
sugar cane fence surrounded her thatched roof home and
it was guarded by an aggressive male turkey. This macho
bird would fluff his feathers and vigorously shake his
body as this lovely woman and I spoke together.
Occasionally, he would move in closer to me to make me
understand that he was the "guard turkey" and I had
better watch out! Great gobbles would come out of this
bird along with his energetic fluffing and shaking. I
had never seen anything like this blue, purple and
maroon headed turkey before and I didn't know if I
should laugh at this furious absurdity or step back and
let him have his territory.
My
saucer-like eyes betrayed my caution and the Maya woman
told me not to worry, it was "just a turkey."
(!!!)
Yes,
I know, but his head is almost to my shoulders!
Sunburned and windblown, we head back into Livingston on
the water taxi
We
love visiting the indigenous peoples in their villages
and homes. All over the world they are friendly, open
and generous. The experience fills us up with
satisfaction that people are people everywhere and we
share the same human concerns and challenges.
Antojitos Gaby II, a restaurant famous for their
Garifuna Topado
Back in town
we're ready for some food so we stop at Antojitos Gaby
for a local lunch of distinction.
Topado is a
native Garifuna specialty that you must try. A coconut seafood soup
fills a large bowl to the brim with whole fish, shrimp,
clams, and crab. At 65Q an order, it will easily feed
two. Ours came with fried plaintain and buttered toast.
Here's a closer look
The
broth is spectacular, made from healthy coconut milk and is filled with
protein. You won't get this anywhere but in Garifuna
country! We ordered some red beans on the side but it
ended up being too much food to finish.
The
Immigration office in Livingston
The
boat to Belize leaves tomorrow at 7 a.m. so we must get
our visas stamped out of Guatemala here at this
Immigration office before we board. We cannot even
purchase the 200Q per person ticket until we show the
captain our exit stamps in our passports. So we list our
names on the manifest and proceed on to the immigration office
just up the street.
We
walk into this tiny air-conditioned building and show
Mr. Immigration Officer our passports.
"Hmmmmm,"
he says while shaking his head sadly. He tells us he
doesn't like our stamp into his country of Guatemala.
Huh?!?
Billy and I look at each other quickly and with
confusion in our eyes. For two or three full minutes we
explain to Mr. I'm-Giving-You-Trouble that we entered
Guatemala through the Mexican border at
Huehuetenango.
"Oooooh,"
he says as he fiddles around behind the counter looking
for the correct stamps with which to mark our passports.
"That will be 80 Quetzalez per person."
What?!?
We
explain with great respect to our newest best friend
that our guide books didn't mention a thing about being
charged a fee for the exit stamps...
With a ferocious "harumph" in his eyes, Mr. Immigration
Man states flatly that the guide book is wrong. He says he has been
working at this job for 20 years and for each of those 20 years he has been
requiring payment to leave Guatemala.
He
demands to know the name of
the guide book and what year it was written, but then he
interrupts himself and simply states that the book is no good.
So we give him 80Q (or $10USD) each to get his stamp,
and
all of a sudden he’s happy now. Broadly smiling he gives us a
"legal
receipt" - which he neither stamps nor signs... and we
are on our way!
We
continue our
105 Day Adventure with
our
entry into Belize!
For
more information, stories and photos of Guatemala,
click here
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