Back in January I was in Mexico with a flight tentatively booked back home to California. I had a choice to make: get on the flight and go back to the States, or extend my two-week trip to something more long term. I didn’t have anything pressing to do back home until June, so why not? I looked at the map of locations that Alaska Airlines flies to and saw that they had direct flights from California to Guatemala. Hmmm, Guatemala?

I had never been to Guatemala, but it had always piqued my interest as an interesting place to visit. I nonchalantly pushed my return flight back to a random date in June and changed the airport to Guatemala City. I figured I could always change it if I wanted. Was I actually going to Guatemala? But as the months rolled on and this leg of my journey transitioned to Panama, then Costa Rica, then Honduras, I realized my self-fulfilling prophecy was coming true. I had to go catch that flight in Guatemala. Next thing I knew I was landing at the Guatemala City airport and shoving my surfboard in an Uber (ironically) bound for the mountainous colonial village of Antigua.

I spent nearly a month in the country, from the mountains to the coast. Here I’ll highlight some of the moments and characters that stand out the most.

Breakfasts with Don Carlos

Some of my best memories in Guatemala came from the daily breakfasts in my Antigua homestay. The house was run by an elderly Guatemalan woman, Ruth, who cooked meals for the students and travelers staying at her house. Every morning I would join the group for breakfast, chatting mainly with Japanese travelers and an elderly Guatemalan man, Don Carlos.

According to Don Carlos, he moved to Antigua for the safety that the city provides and after bouncing around a few homestays where he didn’t like the food, he finally found a home here with Ruth, who he claims makes a superb Pepián (a typical Guatemalan stew). I never found out how old Don Carlos was, but Ruth hinted that he was much older than he looked. He must have been in his 70s, maybe 80s, but still had a head full of thick, jet black hair that was carefully trimmed. He had a lazy eye, so it was a bit difficult to tell who he was talking to, but given that I was usually the only foreigner at the table fluent in Spanish, he usually directed his stories to me. He loved a good conversation and would wrap anyone who was willing to listen into a different tale every morning. Even if I had something to do or somewhere to be, I would hang around for Don Carlos’s stories and rants. To me, that was the ultimate travel experience, so what could be more pressing?

He told me many stories he experienced during the country’s tumultuous history of civil war. Don Carlos used to work for the government on infrastructure projects, whether it was dams or roads. One time he was sent to build a bridge across a river to connect the area where anti-government guerillas were living to the rest of the country. The idea was to appease the guerillas to lay down their arms, integrate into society, and get employment.

But one day at work, Don Carlos and two of his colleagues were kidnapped by a guerilla group who accused him of slaughtering people from their village a decade prior. Don Carlos had no idea what they were talking about, but he was told the penalty for his crime would be death. He spent the night tied up in a shack, with his mouth perched of moisture. A little boy in the village snuck into the shack and gave him and his fellow prisoners Coca Cola, which was life saving, he said. Now, every time he gets a whiff of Coca Cola, he remembers that moment.

As it turns out, someone who witnessed the kidnapping ran 20 kilometers to the nearest village to call for help. A government helicopter was sent to rescue Carlos and the other prisoners, and they were successfully saved from capital punishment.

Carlos says the boy who gave him Coca Cola and the rescue via helicopter are both miracles, proof that God is real. He hadn’t been one to attend church, but after that moment, he joined one in his community. His son joined the church band and went on to become an accomplished musician.

I could fill a book with Don Carlos’ stories, like the time nearly everything in his house was stolen by thieves, how gangs control the slums of Guatemala City, where to get a haircut in Antigua, or how much he loves El Salvador’s President Bukele.

The mind-zapping heat of El Paredón

Ever since I started this journey, I’ve spent about 90% of my time in hot, tropical locations — a far cry from the oh-so-temperate, enjoyable climate of my home in coastal California. Off the top of my head I can recall blistering heat on the coasts of India and Sri Lanka, baking concrete during Beirut’s summer, and sweating through all my shirts while on the couch of my Reunion Island home. I experienced hot, and I largely learned to adapt. But what I faced on the Guatemala coast caught me off guard.

After spending a week in the cool, mountainous climate of Guatemala’s interior, I descended to the coast to check out the surf village/backpacker hub of El Paredón. When I stepped off the bus the heat hit me like a brick wall, injecting my lungs with scalding, humid air. The following day as the sun rose, the temperatures began to rise, and rise, and rise. I looked at my phone which told me it was 94 degrees Fahrenheit outside, with a heat index of 106 due to the humidity. There was little shade to be found in the town built straight onto sand. Air conditioning is like gold in those parts and, unfortunately, was not in my budget.

I couldn’t tell if I was suffering from recency bias as I was melting in my Guatemalan hut, but I was thinking that this had to be the hottest weather I’ve experienced during my entire trip. Over the next two weeks I simply learned how to adapt. There was no other choice. Clothes were worn only when necessary. The peak heat hours had to be spent wet, whether in the pool, the ocean, or via frequent showers. Lots of time was logged in front of a fan. When the afternoon wind picked up and graced my wet skin, I would savor the 30 seconds of ‘cold’ that I would experience before all the water droplets vanished into the atmosphere. Overall, I learned how to survive in the extreme heat, but damn did it feel good to return to mild weather.

Volcan de Fuego

Before this trip, chasing volcano eruptions wasn’t high on my to-do list (if on it at all). But I was in awe as I climbed Acatenango volcano and watched the adjacent Volcan de Fuego continually erupt from the afternoon into the late evening. The power of nature was impressive and the glowing lava was captivating. I hiked that mountain thinking that the views were what would enthrall me, but I left realizing that the volcano eruptions are by far the main attraction.

There are very few places on Earth where you can expect volcanic eruptions like a Japanese train schedule — and safely watch them from the same altitude — so I don’t expect this to be an experience I’ll be able to repeat in the future, but I’ll definitely keep it in mind should the opportunity present itself.

The magic of Atitlán

After the aforementioned suffocating heat of the Guatemalan coast, the highlands of Atitlán were (literally) a breath of fresh air. Atitlán reminds me a lot of Lake Tahoe; both are giant, deep, high altitude lakes surrounded by towering mountains. The lake is home to eleven villages that are rich in indigenous culture, each having their own ‘vibes’ ranging from local artisan co-ops to ayahuasca ceremonies to rowdy traveling backpackers. The locals converse in their indigenous tongues, but revert to Spanish when speaking with foreigners or non-indigenous Guatemalans. And the women all don their traditional, colorful, hand-made skirts.

The highlight of my time in Atitlán was a sunrise hike with a popular local guide, Samuel, whose life stories rivaled even those of Don Carlos in Antigua. Samuel crossed the desert into the U.S. and lived for three years in New York. He told me he loved his time there, particularly because you could freely walk around safely in the city at night. When he returned to Guatemala, he worked as a farmer to earn poor wages for back breaking work. But, one day, he had a dream where he was surrounded by foreigners — tall white people, he said (Guatemala is one of the ‘shortest’ countries in the world). He took it as a sign to leave the fields and work with tourists in Atitlán. Ever since he has been guiding hikes in the area.

Samuel taught us about the local plants, the various religions that were celebrated on the mountain, and even a few words in his first language, Tzʼutujil, one of the 22 Mayan languages spoken in Guatemala. Most of the pronunciations were way too difficult to reproduce without practice, but the phrase for good morning, ‘saqari,’ which I could remember due to its phonetic similarity to the Spanish word, ‘sacar,’ or ‘to take out,’ was easy enough for me to pronounce. I proceeded to use it on all locals who passed me on the way down the mountain, never failing to evoke a surprised smile on their faces.

According to Samuel, the volcanos around Lake Atitlán have a mystical aura and are capable of swallowing people to never be seen again — an eery thing to tell someone as they were hiking on the slopes of those very mountains.

Antigua’s colonial esthetic restrains corporate America

Antigua, the original capital of Guatemala, has a stunning grid of 17th and 18th century colonial architecture. Even the newer buildings have been created to follow this esthetic as part of (from what I understand) legislation to maintain the heritage and culture of the town.

As a result, one of the subtle details you will notice is the very limited branding of the corporate restaurants that you can find in the town. Fast-food joints like McDonalds and Burger King are housed inside these old, colonial style buildings and you can almost walk right by them without noticing because of their limited branding. The restaurants are clearly restricted in how big their signage can be because they all just have one very small logo on the outside to indicate what the otherwise unassuming building contains.

Starbucks takes up a large chunk of a corner of one of the blocks near the center. There is a small logo on the outside, but when you walk inside it opens up to an elegant entryway with murals, slick wooden furniture, charmingly tiled floors, and an interior courtyard with several off-shooting rooms where you can enjoy your coffee. I haven’t been to that many Starbucks abroad, but this certainly was the fanciest one I had stepped foot in.

A flight well changed

After my month in Guatemala, I am definitely glad that I went on that whim to change my return flight to the country. The stunning nature, well-preserved indigenous culture and languages, and relative proximity to home (the U.S.) definitely make it a good candidate for a return trip. I’m sure it won’t be too long before I’m back.