The Volcano, Part Dos

When choosing where to spend the few days leading up to our flight out of Guatemala City, Antigua, with its colonial charm, seemed an obvious choice. Plus, it's home to FOUR, count 'em, FOUR volcanoes. Ahhhh, so many volcanoes to climb, so little time. Turns out it's also home to FOUR ZILLION tourists. Turns out too that we're not the only tourists who like to climb volcanoes.

We dragged ourselves out of bed this morning at the appalling hour of 5:45 (apologies to Meg's med school friends for whom that would count as sleeping in) to meet our "shuttle" to the volcano, about "45 minutes" away. Two hours later, our retired and tired American school bus and its 50+ gringo passengers arrived in the pueblo of San Francisco at the base of Pacaya. We bought some bananas from a shy little San Franciscan girl, and off we went. Our three guides had announced on the bus that all 50 of us should stick together ("Como una gran familia! ¡Que Bueno!"), but it quickly became apparent that this family was not meant to hike en masse. About five minutes into the climb, an over-eager American teen started *running* up the trail while a thirty-something woman was in negotiations with the men mounted on horses offering "taxis" to the top.

Eventually, la familia gringa was reunited at the top, where we munched on peanut butter and chocolate and checked out our surroundings. Pacaya is an active volcano that erupted four times in 2000 but hasn't spewed much lava to speak of since then. It does, however, blow off an impressive amount of hot noxious gas. Apparently today was an especially prolific day for Pacaya, and the dense mix of gas and low-lying clouds meant that we couldn't make it all the way to the crater. Bummer. But we didn't mind too much, cause we were sufficiently intrigued by the crazy yellow rocks, the old lava fields that look kinda like giant cow patties, and the sensation of being in an outdoor smelly sauna at 2800 meters.

We followed the signs back to San Francisco, and a few hours later here we are in an internet cafe listening to Michael Jackson and the Scorpions and typing on computers that are set to English instead of Espanol. We're half-expecting to see the Golden Gate Bridge and cable cars when we step outside. We haven't seen much of the real Guatemala yet, but if ever there was a time to hit the tourist meccas, it's during the World Series. Go 'stros!