Finished thesis to the best of my ability, and sent a complete draft to my advisor. Sold my large belongings and packed the rest into the car heading west. Sort of melancholy to leave, but I’ll be back in two weeks to tie up loose ends, so it’s not really goodbye yet.
Category: Travel Page 37 of 63
Globetrottin’
I saw this poem mentioned in a letter to the IHT in response to Elie Wiesel’s full page ad.
Can I forget thee, o Jerusalem?
Tourists by Yehuda Amichai
Visits of condolence is all we get from them.
They squat at the Holocaust Memorial,
They put on grave faces at the Wailing Wall
And they laugh behind heavy curtains
In their hotels.
They have their pictures taken
Together with our famous dead
At Rachel's Tomb and Herzl's Tomb
And on Ammunition Hill.
They weep over our sweet boys
And lust after our tough girls
And hang up their underwear
To dry quickly
In cool, blue bathrooms.
Once I sat on the steps by agate at David's Tower, I placed my two heavy baskets at my side. A group of tourists was standing around their guide and I became their target marker. "You see that man with the baskets? Just right of his head there's an arch from the Roman period. Just right of his head." "But he's moving, he's moving!" I said to myself: redemption will come only if their guide tells them, "You see that arch from the Roman period? It's not important: but next to it, left and down a bit, there sits a man who's bought fruit and vegetables for his family."
Returned from my trip to the country which must not be named.
Preparing for the second leg of our adventure, we went to Guatemala City to catch an early flight. Ruth was interested in exploring the capital, which Lonely Planet describes as “dirty, dangerous, and fascinating.” True on all counts.
We’re staying in Marianna’s Petit Hotel, which is in a guarded compound near the airport. Inside, it is decked out in Christmas gear, including a trainset and funicular.
Out in the city, we did a walking tour of the historic center. Found cheap souvenirs on the crowded Calle Real, including a 999999-in-1 FunStation Game, which must be the result of integer overflow. The central park was filled with families enjoying the sunshine, and two clowns who were apparently very entertaining. Right off the park, the beautiful National Cathedral is fronted by 12 columns documenting the names of the disappeared. Impressive to see that recognition out in the open, even if it is years too late. Stopped in a bar that was apparently a favorite of Che’s. It serves beer by the goblet, which is a good start. More on him later, as our adventure continues…
After calling home for Christmas, Ruth and I decided to go off and climb a volcano. It was an hour drive, then a 3.5 km hike through jungle up to the crater. The final pitch was covered in loose rocks that slide backwards with each step, and embed themselves in your shoes. The hipster girl on our trip wearing leggings was poorly equipped. Actually reaching the lava flow, we stepped gingerly off the loose rock onto still cooling magma. The sight of a melted sneaker sole was a deterrent against venturing too far from our guide. However, some dudes showed their machismo by lighting a cigarette from lava plucked from the flow. Perhaps the second most dangerous thing I can think of doing. After the incredible sunset, we stumbled down in the dark, thankful for Hannah’s warning to bring flashlights. Feliz navidad.