| A COLLAGE OF SCENES FROM SOUTH OF THE BORDER
Dear Friends and Family, Old and New, Near and Far:
i walked this morning over the cobbled streets of Antigua, Guatemala, founded by Spanish conquistadors in 1543. The sidewalks are narrow, the walls artistically peeling, and khaki-clad tourists stroll among women wrapped in hand dyed fabrics, topped by embroidered blouses.
 Balancing baskets of oranges and melon on their heads, girls sway gently through the stalls of crowded markets. Brilliant fabrics in turquoise, red, amarillo, or indigo, most woven or stitched by the indigenous women in mountain villages, flutter in the breeze. For an artist seduced by color, Guatemala is a feast. Catching photos of these beautiful people is a challenge, but I long to preserve those brilliant hues for a rainy day.
That was written a week ago, before my new friend, Heidi, and I jolted over the mountains to Lake Atitlan, chewing on a special gum to settle our stomachs. (Some people do special yoga moves to massage their internal organs. Not at all necessary if you’ve had every cell vibrated in a South American bus!)
En route, we passed flat fields of cabbages and beans growing for the markets in the cities, and I watched through the bus window as the fields became more and more angled until they looked so steep that I couldn’t imagine how they were tilled and planted.
From the tranquility of Atlitlan, an azure lake surrounded by three volcanic peaks, we headed to the maze of markets that is Chichicastenango. Yes, we dawdled over breakfast, and missed the direct bus at 8 AM. So we had to take THREE chicken buses to get there, jumping off one and back on another in different villages, each bus crammed with other market goers. On arrival, we were immediately beseiged by sellers of woven purses, necklaces supposedly made from Mayan coins, handstiched table runners, colorful candies in tiny cones, beaded bracelets, and finely detailed masks both antique and modern. These persistent women and children with beseeching eyes followed us like a magnetic force, holding up their wares and repeating, “Buen precio, buen precio!”
As a former weaver, it was truly painful to say no to such beauty. I resisted stoically, since my backpack is already full and far too heavy, though I can envision a house with these beautiful textiles adorning the walls.
(written February 20, 2009)
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CLOSING NOTE: SEARCHING FOR A NEW PLACE
When I began this newsletter some weeks ago, I realized I was suddenly too near the end of my trip after five months of traveling. So many countries still to see! The taste of steak and the hypnotic sensation of dancing tango linger in my memories of Buenos Aires. Visions of white sand beaches, the notes of samba, and the mysteries of the Amazonas haunt me from Brazil. The soothing spirit of the Andes and the generosity of strangers who became friends, especially the family who invited me for Christmas, enriched my time in Ecuador. And wow, here i am, finally ziplining over the rain- forest high in Costa
Rica.In Panama, we motored from tiny island to tiny island in the San Blas, experiencing the lifestyle of the Kuna Indians, whose bamboo houses are built right to water’s edge, and whose creative women design and stitch intricate molas.And that’s all before I was, to my surprise, mesmerized by Managua, where I went for 2 days and stayed for 2 weeks, getting my teeth fixed by a talented dentist, and studying Spanish with a tolerant tutor and a lively family. I can now converse in primitive fashion with cab drivers, and buy bus tickets on my own.In my last three weeks I traveled to and through 10 cities in four countries, from Leon, Nicaragua, up to Tikal in Guatemala, sunning myself for a bit in Belize before a quick swoop through the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico, still searching for my ideal place by the sea.Did I find it? And what’s happening with my book, An Unrealistic Life: The Art of Following your Dream without Getting a Real Job?Ah, the answers to those questions may be revealed in the next chapter of this netscape-novela. I just need to Om-m-m-mm a bit more and commune with the spirits. The answers may or may not be nigh, but the quest has been extraordinary.
My deepest gratitude goes out to all those people who have shared their stories and dreams with me, aided me in my wanderings, and touched my soul, truly enriching my unrealistic life.
Please continue to forward this newsletter to anyone who might be interested and invite them to sign up. Past newsletters can be read online here. More stories and photos will be posted soon, now that I have a stable internet connection.Meanwhile, take care of your special selves, live creatively, and dream unrealistic dreams!
Elena Hiatt Houlihan
Moving Images
Written partially on the road in Central America, and
posted from American soil. After helping my son move in Houston, I’m now headed to Indiana to visit my parents and savor more home cooking! |
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NOTE: You may be a close friend or relative, someone who’s genuinely interested in the continuing saga of my book, a teacher or student I’ve worked with, an editor I’m trying to impress, a perfect stranger I met briefly on the night bus to Palenque, or had an intense conversation with on the beach at Playa del Carmen. (Perhaps you’ve forgotten me, but I have not forgotten you!) Since I’m NOT making any promises to make you RICH, BRILLIANT or FAMOUS in 5 easy steps (not yet anyway), if my stories and observations don’t enliven your day, then hit UNSUBSCRIBE. If you’ve been forwarded this newsletter, please click below to subscribe. Merci mille fois!
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| ALL CREATURES GREAT AND SMALL
In late December, after wavering unmercifully, I finally succumbed to the siren of the tour-sellers who told me it would be a sin to leave Ecuador without going to the famous ecological heritage site that is the Galapagos. Upon arriving I ambled past a sea lion and photographed a pelican en route to the boat that took me on an unbelievably bumpy ride to Santa Cruz island.
That was nothing compared to the ride on horseback up to the volcanic crater of the Sierra Negra. I was more nervous about riding that horse than I was about jumping off a cliff and hang gliding in Brazil. Especially because my horse did not like crowds and kept going off the beaten path into the bushes. We both survived, and I proceded to photograph many of the hundreds of iguanas and turtles which posed for us as if they were going to be in Vanity Fair.
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| Humorist Nora Ephron wrote a book called I Don’t Like My Neck about the feminine trials of growing older. But she has nothing to complain about compared to these turtles who can reach up to 175. And the scientists are still trying to find a girlfriend for Lonesome George, a young’un somewhere around 80, who is the last of his species. This isn’t George, by the way, he was on retreat during my visit. But you can see why a female would think twice about cozying up to these guys.
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