Livingston, a town on the tiny amount of Caribbean coast of Guatemala, sounded like a really cool place to visit. It’s the homeland of the Garifuna, a group of people who are descended from West African slaves mixed with the Native Carib of the area.
They’re famous for their laid-back island culture which apparently has a unique
form of music that they’ve become known for. I was really looking forward to seeing this culture alive in its heartland, but when it came right down to it, Livingston totally sucked.
We took a long boat ride up the Rio Dulce river to get to the Livingston port.
Immediately, I noticed the tatty, dumpy look of the place. I know it’s
supposed to be laid-back, but it seriously looks like a hurricane hit the whole town and nobody bothered to clean up. The buildings are mostly in shambles and the few that stand upright with any degree of integrity need a good scrub-down and
a few coats of paint.
To add to the atmosphere, filthy chickens and dogs roam
the streets and the heat is pretty opressive.
The “beaches” are apparently contaminated and if that
doesn’t put you off swimming, there’s garbage floating in the water. (To be fair,you can take a boat to decent beaches, but it costs $60 which is a bit steepwhen you consider that a full-on dinner costs $5.)
As for culture, I was totally disappointed in the Garifuna.
Maybe all the good ones left, but the few we did meet were smelly homeless hustlers. One old Garifuna man who sat down next to us in the shade told us that he’s been trying to figure out why tourists come to Livingston!
Where’s all the fun music? The island life?
The road from Livingston (actually Puerto Barrios, a boat-ride away) to
Guatemala city was at least a pleasant ride. We got set up in a great
air-conditioned bus with comfy seats (one per person instead
of the Guatemalan fill-to-capacity standard!) for a dollar or two more than
it would have cost for the usual cramped, stuffy ride. Since the trip would be close to 6 hours, we sprung for the fancy bus.
We stayed the night in Guate (Guatemala City, as the locals call it) at a hostel in the rough part of town. I think the idea of a “bad area” is worse
than the reality of it most of the time. Of course, there are those terrible incidents that really do happen, but for the most part, the locals are scared of
violence as the tourists are, so there’s a good deal of comradery.
The next leg of the trip would be to Panajachel (“Pana”) on the shore of the
famous Lago Atitlan, a beautiful turquoise lake surrounded by volcanos. We took a cheapo bus and paid our price – the damn thing broke down twice on the way and the second time we were all left stranded until another ride arrived.
Some guyspulled up in a minibus a few minutes later and a couple of us climbed in for a ride to Pana.
Pana is a total tourist shopping center. The markets are alive day and night
and it’s difficult to “just look.” Once you approach a stall, the bidding
begins. It’s really awkward! The sellers tell you a high price, then ask
what you’ll pay for the item. Once the low-ball is thrown, you’re hard pressed to
get out of there without buying. And walking away is almost worse! Once you do that, the price comes way down. Plus, there are wandering women and childrenwho crowd around if you hesitate for a second and it’s a total guilt-trip to turn them down.
Eoin and I sat down to eat some Tacos and were immediately descended upon by three cute little girls. It feels rotten to turn them away but it’s really annoying to be harassed. I made a major mistake by showing fleeting interest in a beautiful embroidered tablecloth on my way down to meet Eoin at the lake shore. The woman selling followed us about 300 ftbefore I finally said “no, gracias” enough to make her believe me.
Something great about Guatemala: the food! I’ve been loving the dense soft
corn tortillas, the strangley flattened-but-delicious meat, and the pure and simple guacamole. Also great are the “licuados” (fruit smoothies) made with yoghurt or milk. Treats!
