Nova Scotia Sojourn, a road trip. July 2022

 

We are one week into our Nova Scotia sojourn. We left early last Saturday morning and drove to Bar Harbor, Maine, where we took a three hour car ferry over to Yarmouth NS.  It was a beautiful boat and ride.

In Yarmouth we stayed at the Golden Bamboo Inn, one of two houses owned by Alex and his partner, who we never met and whose name we didn’t get.  Together they are called the Chinoiserie Hotels, although I am not sure where the chinoise comes in. Actually Loring just pointed out that Alex’s heritage is half Chinese, so that makes sense. But it doesn’t quite convey the flavor of the place, either the houses or of Yarmouth.

   The houses are pretty grand former sea captains’ homes. They are in the process of changing the décor more to their taste.  The houses had been a b and b before. The woman from whom they bought the houses had moved into a tiny house behind the house next door. An amusing transition.

  Each had a widow’s walk with a view to the sea.  We have them in New England too, the sailor’s wives supposedly looked from there anxiously awaiting their husbands’ return. We had a whole suite, bedroom and living room, very nice. And Alex cooked us a mean breakfast each day.

Yarmouth is pretty quiet, not bustling as we expected considering it is at the end of the ferry. There is a self guided walking tour of the mansions, which it took us a couple of hours to complete, and was well worth it.  Most of the houses are single family residences now, a few are b and b’s, and a few were made into apartments.  

There are only a couple of restaurants in town, and a few more on the outskirts. But there was a lot of excitement in town, both a ribfest and a fireworks display. 

The ribfest is apparently a travelling event, quite large, and three days long.  There were five huge trucks set up, with billboards advertising their ribs, and lines waiting in front of most of them. We chose two, mostly on the basis of not having the longest lines, realizing that also might have meant they didn’t have the best ribs!  The two ribs were noticeably different but neither of us could say we preferred one over the other.  There is supposedly a taster’s choice as well as other awards, but we didn’t see any place to vote, not that we would have. We wondered how anyone could try all five, unless they were part of a large group.  I guess it would only take five, or less if they were really hungry!

There were some bouncy house type activities for kids, and from the posters I’d seen in town, I think there had been music on a previous day.

Someone had mentioned to us that there would be fireworks at 10, so after a rest at home, we went to a nearby park to watch. The grassy hill was filled with folks and families, and we had a perfect view.

So all in all, a nice flavor of the town and townfolk.

Earlier in the day, we had driven out to a scenic lighthouse on the end of a peninsula, about 10 miles out of town.  In addition to the lighthouse itself, there was a man demonstrating lobstering techniques.  Lobstering is big here, bigger I think than at home.  Wherever you drive there are houses with tons of lobster traps, many more than I have ever noticed in Massachusetts or Maine.

Next stop was Halifax, for two nights. It’s a fairly large city. We stayed at the Hotel Barrington right in the middle of town and walkable to everything. The harbor is the hub for activity, certainly for tourists, and perhaps for residents too. It’s filled with boats large and small, and stalls with food and souvenirs.  It seems that many, even most of the visitors are from Nova Scotia. 

My main desire in the city was to visit the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia, really a museum rather than a gallery. I had heard of and read about a folk artist named Maud Lewis, who was originally from Halifax, but had spent most of her life in a tiny house in Digby built by her husband. She painted many local scenes and painted pretty much everything in the house as well. The house was neglected for years after her death,  but had been restored and brought to the museum, where it is now, along with many of her paintings. So, you can imagine how disappointed I was when we got to the museum and they told us the Maud Lewis rooms were under reconstruction and not open. There were several other interesting exhibits, and we did get a peek at the house thru an adjoining room. There are several books about Lewis, and also a fairly recent film called Maudie, which seems highly rated.  I will have to check it out.  I know Ethan Hawke plays her husband, but I don’t know the actor who plays Maude.

On the way from Yarmouth to Halifax, we stumbled upon a UFO site and small museum. We almost didn’t stop, but I am glad we did. The man running it, in his 70s, had been the been the first one to sight the object back in 1967.  He was 17 and had been out with a friend. Of course they were asked if they had been drinking, which he says they hadn’t.   There had been numerous sightings that night, and people assumed that an airplane had crashed into the water. Officials searched the water for three days but never found any trace of anything.  There was documentation from a pilot and copilot flying a large commercial plane who had both seen the object.  When I asked the man at the museum what he thought had happened, he said he truly didn’t know. There have been a couple of books written about the incident, but he says he hasn’t read them because he doesn’t want to color his recollections with others’ narratives.  There was a small boy with him who was his grandson. I wondered what the boy, and his other grandchildren and great grandchildren, think of the whole story.

Next we drove up to Cape Breton Island, which is the northern part of the province. We stayed in Port Hood, which is on the western side of the island. It’s a small village. We stayed in a cabin which was part of a bed and breakfast, several rooms in the main house, and three cabins.  It was run by a couple who we guess was German, very nice.  We hadn’t been sure if we would stay there one or two nights, but decided that one was enough. There was a private beach that was part of the property, and which we walked down to. There were also five beaches in town, about which they bragged. We drove down to a couple of them, on which there were quite a few people.  Nothing nearly as nice as the beaches at home.  There was also a huge trailer camp, which looked as though people stayed for a long time, perhaps the entire summer.  Some trailers had permanent looking decks.

Yesterday we drove up the coast through towns like Cheticamp, which is renowned for its hooked rugs. In the several gift shops there are rugs ranging from large wall hangings to tiny pieces meant to be coasters. I bought one that depicts the small traditional local houses and though it’s described as a coaster I will hang it on the wall.

We also stopped at Inverness,   where there had been several coal mines and where most of the male population had been miners. There was a small coal mine museum in what had once been the train station. Some of these little local museums are the kind of places I love, where the things on display are very local, and the people leading you through the museum have lived those lives themselves. The woman who was very eager to guide us had grown up and I believe always lived there. I asked her if anyone in her family had worked in the mines. She said one cousin, who had died  at age 18. She showed us his name on the plaque commemorating all those who had died there. She said that her grandmother had been adamant that none of her children work in the mines. I believe her father had been a carpenter.  

We had made a reservation for the Markland Resort and Beach Cottages  in Dingwall, where we are now.  It’s at the upper edge of Cape Breton.  It is a lodge with a number of cabins spread out throughout a large rolling lawn down to the beach.  We walked down to the beach earlier today and spotted a bald eagle in a tree. Even though we have them at home, right on our lake, it’s still exciting to see one.

The Inn has a main lodge where they serve breakfast and dinner. I had a mixed seafood chowder last night, very different from both New England and Manhattan chowder. It’s not thick like our chowder, more of a soup, quite delicious. It had mussels, shrimp, lobster, and fish. I believe all of the fish and shellfish were local.

There was a musician singing folk songs in the lounge. The mining museum had put me in mind of a song I learned decades ago when I was at summer camp. It is one of the most beautiful and haunting songs I have ever heard, and has stayed with me all these years, sixty to be exact!  It’s about the Springhill mining disaster of 1958. Springhill is not far from here.  We will drive close to it tomorrow. I asked the singer if he knew the song. He said he knows of it, but doesn’t know it, and should probably add it to his repertoire. There is a different musician tonite. Maybe he or she will know it.

The lounge is filled with wooden chairs. I read that it is all the work of one man, and is actually an exhibit, the work is not always here. It is all built from old wooden lobster traps. Every chair is different. In the dining room there are also a number of mirrors on the wall, all different, from recycled wood. They range from $75 to $100 dollars. That’s Canadian, so about 20% less in US dollars. The prices on the chairs range from $500 to $700.

Today we drove out to nearly the furthest edge of the island.  Our gps mistakenly guided us to someone’s house, where we told the woman we were just driving around. She said that people’s gps’s often misguided people. And that there was once a tour bus that got stuck and had a lot of damage.  She was very friendly, as everyone here has been.

On our way back to the inn this am we went past another small museum and lighthouse. The lighthouse had been moved from a nearby island some years ago. Around the island there have been numerous shipwrecks, some of which the museum documented, along with other local artifacts.

It’s about 630 and our dinner reservation is for 730. Loring has already gone up to listen to music and socialize.  I will head up shortly.

Our plans from here on in are a bit up in the air. We had planned to go on to the Bay of Fundy, and also to Campobello, FDR ‘s home on the the US/Canadian border, and also to stay at a lighthouse keeper’s inn for a couple of nights. They are up in the air because Carolina is due to give birth shortly. Her original due date was August 11^th, but they have moved it up to August 4^th and possibly sooner because of some health issues.  It could even be in the next few days but she may not know until the last minute. So we are trying to head back sooner so we are closer to home. Today is July 15^th.    

Well, time to head up for music and supper. To be continued.

 

Last Days in the Dominican Republic

 

We are back home. It’s been a couple of days. No major incidents on the trip back, aside from our delay returning to Logan from Santo Domingo. Our plane was supposed to leave at 230 am, and was delayed two hours. On our return we heard about massive delays in the US, and many of those on Jet Blue. Whether that had also affected our direct flight from DR, who knows. But in any case it was minor compared to the delays and cancellations many have had to deal with and still dealing with today, two days later.

We spent our last two nights in Santo Domingo, at the Casa Dona Elvira in the middle of the colonial zone. It was in walking distance of almost everything we wanted to see and do. The only exception was the Museum of Art, which was two miles away.  We actually did walk there, but in two stages, first to the covid clinic to get our tests within a day of returning home, and then the second mile an hour or so later to the museum. We did take a taxi for the return trip, although Loring would have been okay walking back too.

We were impressed with the efficiency of the clinic,  and got our negative results a few hours later.

We knew nothing about the art museum, and not too much about the other museum we visited that last day, the Museum of the Resistance. We knew it dealt largely with the political events around the 30 years of Trujillo’s repressive reign. It was worth going to, even thought the texts were all in Spanish only. There was much more text than we would have wanted to read even in English, and we knew something about the events due to our reading while we were there. More about that a little later.

Although we were there two nights, it was virtually three whole days. We arrived at 1pm after a two and a half hour ride from Las Terrenas. Since our flight was so late at night, we didn’t leave for the airport until 1130 pm.

The little 16 room hotel was nice enough, although with some reservations. ( no the pun was not intended.)It was in an old colonial house with an interior tiled courtyard. There was a small pool in the center, but we didn’t use it or see anyone else use it. It seemed more of an ornamental idea and probably a lure to potential guests. As it turned out, there was also what they called a jacuzzi, but had cold water, up on the roof, along with a nice sitting area. We may well have used it but didn’t find out about it until our last day. Our concerns: although they served a lovely full breakfast, the service was extremely slow. We waited about 45 minutes after we had ordered, even though we were the first ones there for breakfast. The second day we were also the first, but the server/cook went to the table that arrived after us, and remembering the previous day, we were concerned that it would be a long wait again. This second day there was a server in addition to the cook, so we hoped it would be quicker service. But when we expressed our concerns, he said, well would it be okay if our breakfast was served in a half hour?  Uh oh. But they actually brought it within about 15 minutes.  And okay, the eggs were scrambled rather than the fried we had ordered. But were delicious. And served with fresh fruit including mangoes, bananas, and melon.

Did I mention that the upper branches of the mango tree in the courtyard reached almost to the door to our room? They weren’t ripe yet, but if they were we might have been able reach out and pick them.

 Aside from the museums, we mostly just walked around the city, visiting several historical sites. There is a lot of beautiful colonial architecture, some in good shape and either residences or restaurants or hotels or other businesses. Others were in decrepit shape and often abandoned. They were right along side each other, with luxurious dwellings next to abandoned ones. We didn’t see any really poor or really wealthy neighborhoods, although granted, we only saw a small portion of the city. But the combination of modern and old styles, and maintained and abandoned places, was striking.

Did you know that Santo Domingo is the oldest continuously inhabited city in the Americas? Columbus, or Cristofal Colon, as he is known in Spanish, landed here after first making landfall in the Bahamas, and established the city on his second voyage. 

I find it amusing that when we refer to America today we mean the United States. What about all the other parts of the Americas ? Yet when today we say that Columbus “discovered” America, we aren’t even meaning what is the US today.

 

Let me conclude by telling you what we read during our visit. We always like to read books with a connection to where we are visiting. Here, we read Julia Alvarez’s In the Time of the Butterflies, a  fictionalized story of the Mirabel sisters, Dominican heroes who sacrificed their lives in the cause of  resistance to the Trujillo regime. Although fiction, it seems quite true to the actual circumstances. It’s a beautifully written book. It was also helpful when we saw other references to the sisters, in both the Art and Resistance Museums, as well as in another fictionalized book, The Feast of the Goat by Mario Vargas Llosa about the same period. Have to say we were both a little disappointed with that book, which seemed more like reporting than literature, about Trujillo’s assassination.   Sad to say, as we have liked the other books of his that we’ve read.   Nevertheless, it gave a lot of interesting information, although got tedious toward the end. Loring got tired of it and gave up before finishing it.

We both read  Dominicana, by Angie Cruz.  And both also read a series of connected short stories by Juno Diaz called Drowning.  Alvarez, Diaz, and Cruz are all Dominican born, came to the U.S. as children, and though  their books take place  largely in the US. there are many references to or sections that take place in the D.R.  I also read Diaz’ well known This is How You Lose Her. And Loring read a Graham Greene book that takes place in Haiti.

It was a wonderful trip, and I am so glad we finally decided to discover the country, which is so much more than the resort ridden vacationland that I had previously pictured it to be. Several people had cautioned us to “be careful” on our trip, ie about crime.  We encountered none of that, even in the city, although I don’t doubt it does exist in areas of the country that are replete with “Americans,” that is the U.S. kind.  We encountered almost no people from the U.S. at all.

 I guess I will stop here, unless anything else occurs to me before I post it!

 

 

Last events in Las Terrenas.

Just a few things to catch up:

Today is our last day here in Las Terrenas, and also my birthday. Can’t think of a better place to spend it. We are in this town in a great house, with one door on the street, and the other leading directly to the beach. You walk thru the garden gate and right onto the beach, feeling a little like Dorothy when her house lands and she opens the door into a world of color.(when color was very new in movies.)

Today like every day, our choice was lunch at home, at the gelato place two doors away, accessible from either street or beach, or, savory or sweet pastries from the French patisserie a couple of blocks away.

A couple of things I didn’t mention earlier: there are virtually no shells on the beach at all, something I don’t remember from any other place I’ve been. It’s not really a problem, as I have shells from a number of places, including some that date back nearly 50 years, from our trips to Hummingbird Cay in the Bahamas. Plus all the shells I bought from our neighbor’s estate sale a decade or so back. She used to make decorative crafts and had many containers of them.

Another thing that is relatively scarce here are insects. I love finding many kinds of insects, but not the biting or stinging kind (but they are always very good at finding me.) I have gotten a bite or two here and there, but not in the quantities I usually do, which is a great relieve. Just another reason to love this place.

ONe more thing that I mentioned on fb with a short video, but neglected to describe here, and one of the most entrancing sights and stories I’ve come across here. Our first night, and then every subsequent night here, we’ve seen fishermen near the shore, with headlamps casting an eerie green glow, and holding square nets with which they combed thru the waves breaking near shore. They were obviously fishing for something, but we had no clue what it was. And we didn’t see anyone catch anything, although they diligently looked at every scoop.

Loring googled fishing in the DR, and got our answer. They are baby eels, called elvers. They are very desirable and very expensive in Japan, for sushi and other dishes. In addition to here, they are caught in Maine, and probably other places as well. They became so popular that regulation was enacted in Maine to keep them from being overharvested and poached.

They have gone for as much as $2000 a lb, which explains why the fisherman here are ok with just finding a few at a time. Nights after the first, we did see someone catch one here or there, and put it in a plastic container around his neck that looks like a half gallon milk carton.

That’s all I can think of now. I am heading out to the beach. (Loring is already there) for our second sojourn of the day. We spend a couple of hours there twice a day, morning and afternoon. And will have time for one final beach visit tomorrow morning before our driver picks us up at 11am to bring us to the city.

Our last Terrenas decision will probably tonight’s dinner, which one of the beach restaurants to choose, and what to eat! The restaurant we ate at the first night was perhaps the best. But it is a little more formal than the others, and its seating is looking out at the beach and ocean, but on a paved floor.

I hate to be picky, but I do prefer the ones we can walk to and eat at right on the beach, without shoes, and with our toes literally in the sands!

Well off to the beach for a few more hours. I will no doubt play in the waves with my underwater music device, listening to everything from Bob Marley to Shakira to Bruce Springsteen.

More time in Las Terrenas

Our next to last day in Terrenas. Then we head to Santo Domingo for our last two days before heading home.

Today is the first day that it hasn’t been beautifully sunny.  It didn’t seem like it ever rained here. No one out on the beach today. I feel bad for people who are only here for a few days. Just hope that it’s sunny tomorrow, which is our last day and also my birthday.

If this keeps up we may have to have dinner inside tonight rather than directly on the beach.  I have had some kind of seafood every night – shrimp, grilled whole fish, conch,etc. With different sauces and preparations.  

Our days are all very similar : breakfast on our outside living room, a couple of hours or more on the beach, back to the house for lunch, read a bit more, back to the beach…  shower, ( usually outdoors in the garden) more reading and/or writing, then strolling down the beach to choose our restaurant of the evening. There are about a dozen just to the right of us, back to back, and a few others in the other direction.

Loring usually does two long swims a day. I play in the gentle waves for about the same amount of time, listening to music on my underwater mp3 player as I do in the Y pool at home.

Except for today. 

I have to say this may have been the best ocean water I have ever been in. And we have been to many beaches in many places over the years.  These waves are gentle and the rhythm is lulling. The bottom is sandy and descends gradually.

The beach itself is beautiful too. I used to value a beach partly by how secluded it was.  Now that doesn’t seem to matter, as long as it isn’t terribly crowded. I like to watch the people strolling by, most of whom, if they aren’t Spanish speaking and assumedlly from here, are French.  Same thing on the streets. The kids are so much fun to watch. They are all so happy, gleeful reallly, in the water. Some are with their parents, others are in little groups and I assume they are local. How nice to live someplace where you can walk to the beach. I guess that is what I am doing too, but only on a very limited basis.

Did I say that there are days when I haven’t been out in the town at all, just on the beach and in our living room/garden. So no shoes, either. One night after dinner the waiter came after me as we were leaving, saying don’t forget your shoes. I told him I didn’t have any!

There is a real mix of shops outside our door. Some are tourist shops with crafts, beach clothing etc. and others more for locals, like bodega type mini markets. There are a fair # of real estate offices, and we have been quite surprised at the prices, which are quite high. And they are mostly condos or rentals in developments or communities. I haven’t seen anything that is right on the beach like ours, except for developments that say beachfront, but that means the property is on the beach, but not the actual accomodations.

I have been good (so far) and have not purchased any crafts. There are some nice things, mostly wood,  some metail, and a few stalls with paintings. But the paintings seem like poor imitations of the more well known Haitian paintings. 

The thing that has caught my attention, though, is the gemstone larimar.  It’s native just to the DR, and to a particular area, on the opposite side of the country from where we are. Many stores are filled with jewelry made of larimar. But I prefer the uncut raw stones, and plan to purchase one or several to use in mosaics or mixed media pieces, perhaps with beach glass from Puerto Rico.

I read that someone discovered a mine with the stone in the early 20^th century, but it was seemingly forgotten and then rediscovered in the late 20^th. The name comes from daughter of the man who discovered it, combined with mar, which is ocean in Spanish.  It is a sea blue sea colored mineral, much of it veined with white striations. Its color has  somewhat of a similarity to turquoise, but wouldn’t be mistaken for it .   

I wonder if this is really the only place that it exists.  Maybe there are others that haven’t been discovered yet. In any case, should make a good souvenir. 

 

Dominican Republic 2022

·        Our fifth day in Las Terrenas, Dominican Republic. I’d never really considered the DR as a travel location, because my (mis)conception was that the country was wall to wall exclusive all inclusive resort developments, just the kind of place we don’t want to go! And of course all of that is there, at least I assume so. But there is much more to the country, and we have found a wonderful corner of it.

·         

·        This is

·   our first trip outside the country since the pandemic began, and my first trip of any length since then.(Loring has managed to do his yearly wilderness backpacking trip both years, since their goal is not to see anyone at all for the two weeks) My only travels in two years have been four days in Philadelphia when covid #s were seeming to subside, and a recent overnight in Connecticut.

 For this trip we wanted someplace warm with a direct flight from home.

Las Terrenas is a small town on a peninsula along the northern coast of the country.  Our house couldn’t be better. The front door is on the street, of the main beach road of the town. The backdoor fronts directly on the beach, thru a small garden with an outdoor living room. (thatched ceiling, no walls.) Aside from the beach, it is where we have been spending most of our time. There ‘s a gate at the end of the garden, and then you are on the beach.

We are the only house in town that sits right on the beach. Up and down the beach from us are a row of restaurants, with tables right on the sand.  No need for shoes unless you are going to town!

I have only been on the beach and in the house today, so no shoes at all. Loring did venture out briefly to buy fruit, mangoes and bananas and a papaya, at one of the small mini marts just a couple of blocks away.  Most every day we go out for something. One day for sunscreen. One day for gelato!

The restaurants are great, every meal has been delicious. We haven’t been to the same restaurant twice, anad probably wont hit them all by the time we leave. We have had kind of fish dish every night, whole grilled fish, filets with a delicious sauce, shrimp and calamari in a sauce, etc.

Our routine here has been to have breakfast and lunch here, and dinner out. In other places we have tended to have lunch as our big meal out, partly because we had to go further for a restaurant.

So we’ve had cereal, meusli for Loring, special K for me, with bananas, or, eggs with a baguette. Oh, did I mention that there’s a French bakery down the street?!  Four or five different kinds of bread,  croissants, pain au chocolat, meat pies, fruit tarts…

The gelato place is only two doors down from our house. Yesterday we had gelato for lunch. Other days lunch has been bread or crackers, cheese, and some prosciutto type meat for the first couple of days. There is a big supermarket, about a fifteen minute walk away. We went there the first day and loaded up, and may go again.

The beach here is beautiful ând not too crowded. Palm trees provide shade. And the water, well it may just be the most wonderful ocean water I have ever been to. We’ve been to many many beautiful beaches over the years, but this one has the calmest waves I can remember. I am perfectly happy just floating around for an hour or so once or a couple of times a day.

The street outside is busy, with the majority of vehicles  motorcyles, some with up to four people including a kid or two.  After that, ATVs, and then cars, and a bicycle here and there. It’s loud on the street, but from inside the house you hardly hear it. The waves are louder.

Last night after dinner, we walked down the beach a ways, and came across an amazing sight.  There were a dozen or so men in the shallow water, each with a headlamp and a net. The headlamps provided an eerie light to the men as they each drew their net across the water. We are not sure what they were fishing for, and didn’t see anyone catch anything. Perhaps they are there every night, we will have to go see.

The people here are a mix of locals and visitors, and it’s not always easy to know which is which. There are very few people from the US. We’ve only heard English sporadically, and most of it has been British.  I have heard more French, after Spanish of course, then any other language.

Over the weekend it was somewhat more crowded, but not terribly so. More families with children. I am guessing that at least some were on day trips from Santo Domingo, two and a half hours away.

There are still some kids around, some with adults and some on their own. There were two boys that came selling something on the beach, and a few more adult vendors. I have been really surprised at the lack of hustling, on the beach and in the shops. No one   said let me know if you have any questions in the shops we went to, and the beach vendors were not at all insistent; a mere no gracias sent them on their way.

Before we left home more than one person Loring knows had said “be careful” referring to theft and other crime I’m sure. But we haven’t seen any of that. I’m sure it’s more prevalent near the resorts and other high end developments. But that is exactly the kind of place we don’t want to go! I don’t want to be insulated from the people that live here. And while this is a resort town, it is pretty low key and friendly. Don’t tell anyone, but we don’t even lock the gate to the beach when we go out. The owner told us it wasn’t necessary.

One last thing, down the street from us is one of the nicest playgrounds I have ever seen, with certainly the best view. (although I’m not sure how much that matters to the kids.) There are kids on the structures, and parents on the benches, and some adults hanging out who don’t even have children with them.

I will stop here for now, come back in a couple of days when there is more to report.

 

True Color

I was surrounded and overwhelmed by the colors of Guatemala. Our mosaic project, of course, consisted of color. Every day I reveled in the panoply of colors around us, boxes full of tiles, all purchased in Guatemala City at the beginning of the project, plus some that remained from the previous year. They sat on the ground around us, sorted basically by color, many versions of blues, greens, oranges, browns, etc. Some were flat, others had some texture or mottled appearance.

We worked under our blue tarp, several hours each morning and again in the afternoon, each of us using our nippers to cut the tiles to match the images designed by Deb and by Cindy. The more skilled of us worked at the more detailed part of the panels. The murals themselves were bright and extremely colorful.

The point of the project is to beautify the town and make it known as a mosaic destination, in order to attract more tourism. There were a few groups there while we were, but very few tourists. One group whose stay overlapped with ours was from Habitat for Humanity in Washingon State.   Other towns around the lake are more well known and much more touristed. Frankly, the lack of tourists was part of the appeal of the place to me. But of course, from the local point of view, more tourists means a better economy.

The town is also brightened by a series of spray painted murals done by a local collective of young men. They are also quite colorful, and very different from our work. Oliver is the mural designer, and directs the making of the murals. Unlike our mosaic workshop leaders, who carefully design everything in advance, he designs as he works. This one represents a famous marimba player from St. Lucas.  Oliver also told us that every marimba has its own name, the way we name boats in the United States and other places, Guatemala included. But not every car or plane. I wonder how that evolved, and what other things people name in other places.

I 

But the most dominant sense of color in their environment is seen in the beautiful textiles in the markets, the weaving cooperatives,  and sold by a multitude of street vendors. And especially so in the garments that nearly all the women, and a few of the men, wear.  Each town has its own patterns and colors of weaving, that identify them as belonging to a certain location.  This is also true in Peru, in the clothing and hats that people wear. But there it is only the indigenous people in the more remote locations that dress in the traditional garments.  In Guatemala, it is the majority of the women, in the towns as well as in the countryside. So there is color everywhere. And that is my predominant vision and memory of the country.

This, I am guessing, is a girl and her grandmother, in the three times weekly St. Lucas market. I think the granddaughter was reading to the grandmother. But it is the colors that caught my attention. This may be my favorite photo from the trip. But there are a couple more contenders.


Interestingly, we were told that the traditional clothing of San Lucas Toliman, where we were living, was a red and white striped garment. But the women did not wear that, rather, they wore a variety of multicolored clothing. It seemed as though they had "modernized" by wearing colors other than the traditional ones.

At the weaving collective that I visited twice, once with each group, we had a demonstration/lecture of all the natural dyes that were used to color the cotton they spun and wove. It was fascinating. They used a variety of vegetables, plants, insects (cochineal beetles, which live on prickly pear cacti and have been used by a variety of cultures over the centuries) and dyed them for various periods of time, in different temperatures of water,  to achieve different hues. The woman also indicated, both weeks, that the phase of the moon effected the strength of the color. One more thing to try to research further.

But when someone asked where the glittery thread that was woven into some of the material was obtained, she chuckled and answered that it was from China!

The two ceramic workshops we visited were also full of color, primarily shades of blue and brown, with lots of hummingbird and fish designs. On our very first day, I saw tiny shards of ceramic mixed in with the pieces of tile we were using, and fished them out. Cindy told me they had been bought by someone in last year's group at the ceramic factory. And so when we visited, I bypassed the beautiful whole pottery pieces, as well as the seconds, and went for the "terceras"  - thirds, broken pieces in a cardboard box on the floor under the display shelves. They will sit on my work table until I am inspired to incorporate them into a project.

The colors in the environment were also bright. When I arrived, there was a tree with bright orange flowers in the view of the lake from the restaurant porch, and another one with bright purple flowers.  And those trees continued to blossom over the entire two weeks I was there. They were incorporated into the mosaic design that we worked on, itself based on a photo taken from the porch by Walt Ali, local photographer and guide.  It was Walt who had led many from the first week's group into the forest in search of the elusive quetzal bird, itself very colorful and the symbol of the country.

The plates of food were colorful as well, with  tropical fruits  and juices and the beautiful salads.  Some salads were decorated with edible nasturtium petals. There were many other flowering plants throughout the property, and people working constantly in the gardens.

The vegetable garden, just to the side of our working space, was the domain of head gardener Jose Luis. Some of us went on a tour of the garden with him.  Many of the vegetables and herbs used in the restaurant were grown in the garden. And there were many flowering plants there as well.

Also adjacent to the work space was a bush with stunning large pink flowers. Deb, horticulturist as well as mosaic artist, identified it as Dutchman's Pipe.  A rather prosaic name for such a beautiful plant. It has the look of an orchid or a lady's slipper, but much larger and more impressive.



On our last day, after all of our work was done, some of us worked to inventory all the tiles left over, which will be stored at the hotel for use next year.  Deb and Cindy had purchased more than they realized. There were so many variations of color, including some we hadn't even used. We counted them and had fun giving them descriptive names, as well as photographing them all. One was the lime green similar to the color of my car, as well as to the orange -moringa juice blend we had one morning, and also my favorite coffee cup at the hotel.

And for a less pleasing mention of color, there are the red spots outside the ice cream shop where I fell the first week. I went back the next day to see what mark I had left. But I was disappointed to find out that the red spots on the sidewalk were paint from the wall of the shop, not blood. I guess they had washed the blood away!   Oh well, I left my mark in the  varied blue tiles of the mosaic mural's sky, the white and gray of the clouds, and the brown of a few branches.  And, in the small shards of pottery that we incorporated into the children's clothing in the mural that was installed on the wall of the school.

I did bring back a few souvenirs, of course. A pair of  multicolored shorts for myself.  A couple of beaded lizards with pin backs. I have been wearing  them on my hats, inspired by Antonio, from whom I bought them, who wore one on his Yankee baseball cap as he plied his wares at the entrance to the hotel.

And a huipol, the colorful blouses that the women and some men wear, along with their skirts, belts and aprons.  They don't use anything to attach them. The skirts are simply large rectangles of fabric which they wrap around their bodies.  The blouses are tucked in and the belts wrapped and tucked. The aprons, which are decorative, not utilitarian, are highly embroidered, sometimes with glittery flowered appliques,  and are tied at the back as our cooking aprons are. And a couple of those eyeglass lanyards that have a name I can't think of, brightly colored thin woven items that the children make when they are learning to weave. I bought one and then was given one as a gift.

I've worn the huipol already, plan to hang the belt on the bedroom wall, will wear the shorts when the warm weather comes north.  And I have the photos and the memories of the mosaics, the people, the ones of me being dressed head to toe in traditional clothing at the weaving coop. And the food.

But most of all, the people. I was struck by the friendliness of the people, especially the ones who stopped by while we were working. Some of them just watched, but many took time to say how beautiful the work was, and to thank us.  And virtually all the people we passed on the streets of the town said either Hola or Buenos to us, if we didn't say it first.  They seemed remarkably comfortable and welcoming to the gringos in their midst.

The wait staff, housekeepers and gardeners at the hotel were also friendly and comfortable with us. They didn't seem in the least subservient or shy, much more noticeably outgoing than in other places I have visited.  It might have been partly because we were part of an ongoing group that had spent time there before. But if that was at all a factor I doubt that it was much of one.  They were as eager to practice their English as we were to practice our Spanish. It may be partly due to Chati's values and management style, but I think it is also due to the Guatemalan psyche, something I can't quite put into words, but definitely felt while there.

I hope that the mosaic project will continue, and expect it will, due to Cindy and Deb's commitment and hard work. And I hope that some of the locals will remember us when they look at the art we created, and that it serves to bring a little more economic support to their beautiful town and the lake upon which it sits.

As a small  afterthought, not especially relevant, Suzie, the Guatemalan/American woman who lives part of the year in Massachusetts, told me that Chati, the hotel manager's nickname rather than given name, means woman with a small nose.  I told that to some of our group, but I don't think they believed me, and I am not sure I believed it myself!  Yet I did find, in the Urban Dictionary when I returned home, that it does indeed mean a beautiful woman with a small nose. But it took a lot of googling before I found it.  If there's any lesson there, it may be to stay curious and be open to new knowledge.

And Flash!  I just also googled the decades-old name for those eyeglass chains:  croakies!! I think that's the name of the original company that made them in the 70s.  Does anyone but me remember that?  Or is it just one more piece of not very useful trivia filed away in my head, like the song One Last Kiss from Bye Bye Birdie?  (see the One Last Quiche post if this doesn't make any sense.)

And that's where I will end this saga of my latest journey, before it descends even more into trivial pursuits.

But if you are a facebook person, I am also about to post a photographic album of my travels  there. 

signing off, Joanna

until my next adventure in travel.  hasta luego.

One last quiche

The title of this post came to me in a flash. I am attempting to describe some of the food we ate on the trip. Mysteriously, although surely my doing, my post about food has disappeared on me, twice, and so this is my third attempt.  I will hopefully see it thru to posting this time.

And, it has occurred to me that quite possibly no one beside me will understand the quiche reference. One Last Kiss is the song Conrad Birdie sings to an audience of screaming teens  in the musical Bye Bye Birdie, before he (an Elvis like character) goes off to war.  Obscure, I guess.

My half eaten quiche, with salad from the garden, adorned with nasturtium perals.


The food at the Hotel Toliman, where I stayed for two weeks and where I ate virtually every meal during my sojourn, was beyond delicious.  One would think that I'd tire of the same menu every day, and after two previous weeks eating nearly every meal in a restaurant. Not so.

The menu was so wonderful, and varied, that I looked forward to deciding each meal, and even after the two weeks there were items I hadn't had a chance to try.

Our group had  a limited version of the menu for breakfast, which was included in the trip.  But hardly limited. I think there were a couple of menu items on the regular menu that weren't included. And there were so many possibilities, and the staff was very flexible in honoring our requests, ie for extra yogurt, no beans (me) etc.  Each breakfast began with a blend of fruit juices. I truly think there was a different blend, and a different color,  each day.  Watermelon, papaya, orange with moringa (an herb)  etc.  Maybe because I kept asking, they began to announce the day's blend each morning. That was followed by a bowl of oatmeal, but very different from what we're used to - a very thin gruel, quite sweet, with cinnamon. I got to like it over the course of the two weeks. Some folks loved it. Others didn't.

Then there was a choice of eggs in different styles, fruit platter, etc, all accompanied by yogurt, granola, platanos (plantains, a somewhat savory kind of banana),  refried beans, local white cheese, and more.

We broke our mosaic work for lunch every day, but I rarely ate it. Three large meals a day were two much  for me, although not for most of the group.  I was amazed at how much most people were able to eat, and, I admit, a little distressed by the amount of food some folks left on their plates. I am always bothered by wasted leftover food, mine or others'.  And especially in a poor country, where the people serving us may be struggling to support themselves. Although I am sure that Chati pays and treats the hotel employees well.  She seems to support a lot of local causes, like the cooperative of mural painters, and the kid's marimba band. It is Chati, who with Cindy, initiated the mosaic project as a way to bring both beauty and tourist income to the town.

A large glass of lemonade made with soda water satisfied me most days, until the mishap where I split open my lip. Then I switched to chocolate ice cream for most of the rest of the trip!

And onto supper: the varied menu included various meats, poultry, vegetarian options, fish, all with lots of vegetables. The lunch and supper menus were the same.  On the first night a couple of the group ordered pasta alfredo, which neither liked. I wouldn't have liked it either, the sauce looked exceedingly rich. On the other hand, the other pasta dish, the house pasta, was made with lots of vegetables, a little oil, some parmesan -like cheese, and was fairly light. I believe the pasta was homemade. Others agreed and many beside me ordered it more than once.  Another favorite was the kale quiche.  The crust was latticed and delicious, and the filling delicious too. I recommended it to others, who agreed. We later found out from the gardener that the ingredients included four other greens besides the kale.

Another favorite was the ceviche. Loring and I had had it elsewhere earlier in the trip, with the same preparation. Guatemalan ceviche is rather different than Peruvian ceviche, which is marinated in lime juice. This ceviche also has lime juice, but is primarily tomato based.  It resembles gazpacho, and was served in a tall glass. Someone suggested that I could use a booster seat, and she was right!  My only mistake was ordering it a second time right after my lip was cut, when  the acidity made it hard to eat. But I persisted!  And ordered it another time right before we left.  I may have to try it Guatemalan style at home.

And then, there was the tilapia. The menu said something to the effect of "from our own pool."  But I didn't realize until about a week in that the pool was the decorative fountain virtually outside my room, that I walked by more than once every day.  Sure enough, there were about a half dozen fish swimming around, until a man with a net on a pole came by.  They are bony and a bit difficult to eat, but worth it.  There was also bass from the lake on the menu, but it was very expensive, and I couldn't imagine it being any better than the tilapia. Besides, not sure I wanted to eat something from the polluted lake, where some of the sewage from the communities goes, where people wash their clothes, etc.

I didn't usually need dessert, but did manage to try most of the desserts by the end of the two weeks. There was the ice cream, several flavors but I always had the chocolate, a kind of cheese cake with a fruit sauce, and plantains with mole. I know mole as a savory Mexican sauce, served with meat. It has chocolate and chile and other things, and is not sweet.  This Guatemalan mole was basically a sweet chocolate sauce.  The waiter said the other ingredient was sesame, and I did see a few sesame seeds floating in the sauce, but didn't really detect the flavor. So, basically, cooked bananas in chocolate sauce. Delish.

I am going to stop here, partly because I am afraid of once again hitting a wrong key and deleting everything I have just written.

But I will follow up, now or shortly, with one last post, now that I am home, upon some of my experiences and impressions, and perhaps adding in some other details that I subsequently remember.