A Place Called Panajachel, Lago Atitlan…

This is somewhat of a living post card. I say this because this lake in central Guatemala became a magnet for me, as it had become a magnet for others over the years. Legend has it that some of the more renowned fiction/paranormal writers came here for inspiration. After having been bewitched by it, I can understand why.

This is mid 1983, during one of my many trips to Guatemala, C.A. I had already visited this country about three times and had fallen in love with its people and wild passages; some of the few who are still called good friends are from this land. My side trips, in the little time I had been allotted to this point, had been mainly to Antigua (the old capital city, dating to the 1700’s) which is about one hour from the capital, and where I had been delighted by the early colonial buildings and the even older ruins. Not to mention great food and wine…

This trip was to be different. First of all, we were to have two weeks of seminars –including the weekend in the middle- and, as promised by my dear friend and program coordinator Mary Alice, we were not going to do this at the capital city. She came to the airport to meet my flight and simply said: -“get your body into my car, for now we have about 3 or 4 hours of travel time” –“I have a surprise for you”.

Now, Mary Alice or, simply Alice was by then a 15 year veteran of the insurance wars, having started as a clerk in the company where she now headed the largest agency and we had become true friends (still are) a brother/sister relationship. We had built a total non questioning trust and respect into our relationship but, even so… I am not sure I Iike surprises… She knew this and just smiled. “get in…” -“I’ll tell you about it on the way”.

Guatemala is a country where close to 75% o the population still lives in the countryside within small villages, as the original inhabitants had lived for many, many years prior to the Spaniards coming in. Also, if I remember well, there were then (and I guess still) some 27 native tongues spoken, other than Spanish (which is not native). Actually, in these villages, Spanish was the least spoken language. Shamans are still important people and the spiritual world is revered, feared and respected. On the plus side, the people in these villages live in harmony with the natural forces around them and the country, outside the two or three major cities, is truly a natural wonderland. Mountains covered in a beautiful, lush green tree carpet; valleys so high they are filled with clouds and you can watch the bird flocks pass below you, wild rivers and waterfalls…

There are many lakes within the country of Guatemala. But there is one which, without being the largest, has the most history. As we drove through the countryside and were going up into the mountains, I knew where we were going.  -“We are going to Atitlan, aren’t we?”  A big smile came to her face and she said: -“I was wondering how long it would take you to figure it out” -"We managed to contract two great seminars at the lakeside hotel", she added.

We had spoken often about going to Solola, Panajachel and lake Atitlan; the first two, small towns around the lake. Solola was a typical colonial small town, a little up into the mountainside. Panajachel, however, was lakeside and an international refuge for people from all over the world, especially Europe. Once there, I was able to dine as if I were at the best Parisian bistro or, if preferred, home made German schnitzels. Spanish tapas, Japanese sushi… you name it. You could find it there.  Lago Atitlan had been given international fame as a spiritual force and many of these people had come as hippies to find peace and had stayed.

Yes, we did have the seminars but we also took advantage of any free time we had and explored the lake (by boat only, no roads around it) the volcanoes and the Mayan Indian villages which surround it. WOW!! What a trip… literally a walk back into a lifestyle that had existed for a thousand years before the Spaniards came into the land. For Saturday night, a group of friends came over from the city and we took “The Walk”… This meant that we started at the north end of the main avenue in Pana, and walked back to the hotel at the other end. The trick? At every bar along the way, we would stop and have a drink called the “mudslide”… No, I have no idea what’s in it or how many bars were there along the way. We did manage to make it to the hotel and went on to the lakeside little beach, where we lit a campfire and did some serenading and, yes, a little more drinking well into the wee hours. It was a fall night, clean and totally crisp and clear. I still remember looking up and seeing a huge moon (the lake is high up the mountains, it is the result of a volcano caldera) It was so brilliant and so big that I felt that if I could stretch a little more, I would be able to touch it. The electricity in the air could be felt and one could understand and accept the existence of the magic that so many have spoken and written about… Aldus Huxley once said that Lake Cuomo was beautiful, but Atitlan was far beyond… He was right.

This was my first time to Panajachel, Lake Atitlan. It then became an unwritten rule that all seminars, whenever possible, would be held there… most were.

Postcard from Lake Atitlan, a magical place, fall 1983.

Be well, Be Back!!