Nestled in the hills three hours northwest of Guatemala City, Lake
Atitlan is a mile-high wonder of startlingly blue, wind-tossed waters set
against a backdrop of three 10,000-foot volcanoes — Toliman, Atitlan
and San Pedro — jabbing at the southern sky.
Author Aldous Huxley once called it the most beautiful
lake in the world.
Lining its shores are a dozen Indian villages where
life and customs have changed little over the centuries. But there is one
village, the largest on the lake, where time has stood still only since
1968.
Panajachel (Ponna-ha-SHELL), a town of 3,400 on the
northeastern shore, is something of a haven for bohemian types from Santa
Monica to Stockholm.
The scene is part Woodstock, part Casablanca. Native
Guatemalans mix easily with the hundreds of time-warp wanderers from California,
Canada, Sweden and France who flock here each winter to soak up the sun
and perfect the art of living on $5 a day.
We pass juice bars, mom-and-pop tiendas, pool halls
and burger shops, pressed against one another in non-descript adobe buildings
along the main drag (it's Calle Principal, but don't look for any street
signs, there are none in Panajachel). On Calle Santander, past designer
boutiques and tipico shops selling folk art, we get our bearings at Al Chisme
Cafe, a sort of gringo central for the backgammon and cappuccino set.
We quickly head back to the street. Here is where one
finds the genuine Panajachel — in the dawn-to-dusk bazaars at roadside,
where locals peddle intricate textiles, jade trinkets and finger-woven "friendship
bracelets" called pulseras. Colleen buys a handful for less than 50
cents each, some as gifts for her nieces, others for friends in the U.S.
sanctuary movement who prize them as politically correct.
The next morning we pay the $2 fare and take the ferry
across the lake to the Indian village of Santiago Atitlan, whose residents
descended from the Tzutuhil people. Residents of most of the other small towns around the lake are descendants of the Cakchiquel nation.
A dozen young girls in native garb, perhaps 10 years
old, descend on our party to press their goods: trinkets, scarves, belts
and fruits.
We walk the rutted streets to the town square, where
tourists hunt for bargains, bartering with ladino and Indian merchants.
The poverty is wrenching here, and so we buy but do not haggle.
Still, the indigenas and their exquisite garments
are captivating and I am glad we took the ferry.
Guatemala: An introduction
Tikal
Antigua
Panajachel/Lake Atitlan
Chichicastenango
Guatemala resources
Guatemala photo gallery
Travel articles
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