A Guatemalan Vacation Offers a Different Kind of Education

By Michael Pearlman, 12-31-09

When it comes to vacationing, I’ve got little interest in spending a week at a beach resort, sipping mai-tais and working on a tan. My interest in exploring strange places and having unpredictable experiences is fulfilled instead by finding an international destination that’s might not be on most Americans’ radar. With both time and budgetary constraints, Lindsay and I opted to travel to Guatemala before Christmas, our first international trip together. Our encounters with other travelers and Guatemalans during the whirlwind trip reinforced some long held beliefs about the value of experiencing foreign cultures firsthand.

A little personal travel background is in order. During a four-year stretch in my late 20s, I doggedly pursued a lifestyle focused on extended backpacking trips abroad. Seasonal employment gave me extended time off in order to visit different regions of the world, with each trip a new adventure. It was low-budget travel with only a basic itinerary. I befriended an international cast of characters, endured bare-bones lodging as well as sporadic bouts of loneliness and fear. I loved immersing myself in foreign worlds and always returned with a journal full of memorable experiences.

Fast forward nearly a decade and I’m no longer single or seasonally employed, making international travel a different experience. On this trip, Lindsay and I stayed at hotels that offered housekeeping service and traveled in tourist minivans instead of local buses. Our home base was Antigua, a tranquil colonial city with cobblestone streets that maintains just enough grit and local flavor to remind travelers that they’re in Guatemala, not Cancun. Crossing a border into a new country or clearing customs was always accompanied by a rush of nervous energy during my backpacking days. I was relieved that the familiar feeling returned once again upon our arrival.

Guatemala has no shortage of problems, including an alarmingly high murder rate. Since a civil war ended in 1996, the country has seen tourists return and though tourism is now the country’s number one industry, you’re not likely to find many independent American travelers. Other than a group of missionaries from a southern bible college, our flight from Atlanta was virtually devoid of gringos. We did encounter a few Americans, but more frequently encountered travelers from other parts of the world.

When we struck up conversations with other travelers, they were almost all knowledgeable about American polictics and engaged us in discussions about both domestic and international issues. We had multiple conversations about health care reform, and were repeatedly asked to explain American resistance to public insurance. Some were particularly surprised to learn Americans can (and do) go bankrupt due to medical debt, something that’s inconceivable in Europe.

I noticed some things about the locals as well. In some ways, Guatemalans embrace ideas that struggle to gain traction here in the states. By necessity, cheap public transportation in the form of coloful buses reaches just about everywhere, including dirt roads more appropriate for four-wheelers. Thanks to local markets offering a wide selection of fresh food, the population is likely more connected to their food supply (and related food shortages) than we are here in the United States. Each afternoon, the sidewalks near our hotel would be dotted with women selling homemade tortillas from covered baskets. Antigua’s sprawling market offered virtually everything you’d need to prepare a meal­­--or stock your house for that matter.

Midway through our trip, we flew across the country to visit the Mayan ruins of Tikal. I had been to Tikal once a decade earlier and returning to the ruins was one reason I wanted to visit again. On my first visit­­-- an overnight trip from neighboring Belize-- I couldn’t afford the $125 minibus tour that buzzed most tourists across the border and directly to the ruins and back in a single day. My transportation included a chicken bus that was boarded by soldiers and a pickup truck bed packed with locals in order to reach the ruins. I slept in a hammock at one of the lodges and entered the park in the dark, watching the sun rise from the top of one of the largest temples.

The rules at Tikal have tightened up since then and visitors are no longer allowed to enter the park before sunrise. Some structures at the ruins have been closed, while others have been opened and access improved. Our tour guide Luis was incredibly knowledgeable about the park’s bird and animal life, explaining that privately funded archaelogical work at the ruins is ongoing. We saw howler monkeys and toucans and snapped pictures of majestic temples built by an ancient civilization that extended high above the jungle canopy.

On our last day in Guatemala we took a tour of the active Pacaya volcano, which has been erupting continuosly for three years. A two-hour afternoon hike brought us (along with about 50 other people) right to the edge of a large flow of lava, the rocks hot beneath our feet. It was mildly chaotic and we managed to lose track of our guide on the descent in the dark as the river of lava glowed from the flanks of the pitch-black volcano. It was exactly the kind of dangerous and unpredictable experience that’s tough to find in the United States..

Our week in Guatemala may not have been as relaxing as a beach vacation, but it delivered exactly the kind of rejuvination I was looking for. Calculating costs in foreign currancy, communicating in broken Spanish and the ever-present smell of burning trash was all part of the experience. I was reminded that I no longer need weeks or months to enjoy the rewards of international travel, and sharing the experience with a loved one made the trip that much more memorable.