Fin de Semana en Santa Cruz
Weekend in Santa Cruz.
I’m still here on Lago Atitlan, trying frantically to adjust to the slow, meandering pace of life. There’s not much to do on Santa Cruz besides eat, lay in a hammock reading, and walk to other villages. I’m staying La Iguana Perdida, a friendly hostel, at the behest of Sam and Jessica, some good friends I met in Xela last week. The hostel is just up from the dock and looks out over the cool blue water of the lake and across to green wrapped volcanoes and topography.
Everyone here is very friendly, welcoming and warm. As always seems to happen when meeting folks while traveling, I feel like I’ve known these people for quite some time. We talk about life in our home countries – the things we miss and the things we don’t. We throw our arms around each other’s shoulders. We read next to each other, saying nothing but knowing we can if we want. It’s comfortable.
That said, life by the lake is surreal. All waterfront property is occupied by tourists – people from the States and London and Israel and Western Europe and Australia and New Zealand and Canada. Guatemaltecos live in the city cluster on the hills above the water. Moving from one area to the next is odd – the tourist row covered with posh hotels and colorful striped blankets laid out for sale and the town center filled tortilla vendors and dark workshops, black floors covered with wood and metal shavings. I have to search out people to speak Spanish with.