Part 2: Flying spirits swaying in the streets. Moral of the story: mind your pop music.
That night we went walking around town. Its an interesting mix of Garifuna, Maya and Spanish and European traveler's. The people seemed relaxed, not so much stress as when I was in Guatemala in Sept/October 2003 near election time.
After a mediocre dinner at La Bahia Del Sol, which looked cool and funky on the outside, (don't always judge a book by its cover), we were walking back to Hotel National Flags and passed the catholic church and could hear singing and drumming, so we walked up to the entrance and stood in awe. The church was packed with Garifuna, Maya and Spanish people holding hands, swaying and singing a song, and the tune sounded familiar, the only instruments used were deep sounding drums at the front of the sanctuary. After listening for a few minutes I realized that it was a Simon and Garfunkle song, The Sounds of Silence, being sung in Spanish. The breeze was rustling the women's long skirts, I swear I could see spirits floating in the air above us.
The Sound of Silence (P. Simon, 1964)
Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
'Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence.
"Fools" said I, "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls."
And whisper'd in the sounds of silence.
The next morning was Good Friday, we packed up and went walking around town. Man it was HOT by 8 a.m. Found a local restaurant that was open and ordered toast, coffee and o.j. I cant remember the name of the place, but it was fairly clean, lots of vacationing Guatemalans eating there. As we were rounding the corner to the restaurant people were working on these giant sawdust murals in the street, setting up The Stations of the Cross for a big day-long procession thru town. Not being raised Catholic, I know very little about their traditions, but they fascinated me. After breakfast we passed by the same catholic church form the night before, and they had just started their Good Friday procession. Lots of garifuna ladies in dresses, hats, high heels and parasols. Its always an interesting feeling to travel and live in a place where you are the minority, where you don't belong here, you are obviously a visitor. And then I open my mouth and try to speak Spanish... too funny.. then they really know I'm not from these here parts. I have the language comprehension of a 3 year old Spanish baby. Until I lived in Belize and traveled Central America, I was always the majority. I try to not feel conspicuous, but I always do when I look around and I'm the only white face on a bus, or in a restaurant. I didn't see many American travelers, the white people were mostly from Europe. I know it seems like I'm going on and on and on about being white, I was never made to feel uncomfortable about it, but I could see it in people eyes, when they looked at me, I was different from them, they were as curious about me as I was.
Observations: prices were not as cheap as people tell you. Although they are cheaper than in America, food prices are about the same as on Caye Caulker. A tourist class hotel will cost about $10 U.S. a night per person. Breakfast will cost $3-5, lunch 5-7 and dinner without drinks $7 to 10.
So we checked out of Hotel National Flags, the front desk called a cab for us, and we checked into Casa Rosada. It was about a 15 minute drive because all the streets were blocked off for the procession. It was still pretty early and our room wasn't ready, so Edwin, Cindy and Zulima left their bags with me and went to the big beach party. What a cool spot I found, the breeze rippling off the bay, and me... lounging on a chaise lounge on the ceramic tile verandah like... o.k. here's where I insert the name of a princess or a queen, but I cant think of which one I was that day.
Casa Rosada is a self contained resort, seafront, with a main two-story building and about 10 little, extremely basic cabanas, but who cares, you're only in your room to sleep and change your clothes anyway. Even though there are 10 cabanas sharing 3 baths and showers, it never seemed busy. The restaurant on site and store are on the honor system. When you order food, get a beer, water or soda, you write it in your book on your room page. They had the best coffee and espressos in Livingston. The room was very reasonable at $20 for the cabana, with 2 twin beds (foam pad mattress) mosquito net (didn't need it) and a ceiling fan. Nice mature trees and a lush garden. The owners Sandra Goossens (Belgian) and Javier Putul (Guatemalan) took over ownership about 2 years ago. Little did I know that a couple of months ago I met them right here on Caye Caulker, when they were on vacation. I have to admit I'm easy to please. I'm looking for good value, low stress and low impact vacationing. Just give me a clean bed and a beer in the shade and I'm fine. Zulima, who is 4 now felt very comfortable playing in the garden, always within eyes and ears of us.
O.K. back to the beach party that Cindy, Edwin and Zee went to. Now here's why Livingston gets a bad rap. There is no real beach, it's a black mucky tidal flat, with no bathroom and rusty dusty water.
Dinners at Casa Rosada are by reservation only and well worth it. I had the snook dinner which came with a big salad and their own homemade vinaigrette, homemade bread, fresh steamed veggies and nice piece of garlic butter grilled snook (which is some kind of whitefish) Dessert was included and was orange pound cake. The cost for the meal was about $10 The service at the restaurant any time of the day was excellent. For breakfast or lunch you would order it at the main desk and someone would bring it to you, wherever you were. I'll let the pictures tell the rest of the story.
Part 3
Rio Dulce River Trip and last night in Livingston... to come. Objective: to try every beer brewed in Guatemala.
AmbergrisCaye.com 
