On the east coast of Guatemala is Livingston (note the English influence), a small waterfront town, accessable only by a boat ride down the Rio Dulce [photos: 1 2 3]. Livingston boasts one of the world´s few and most vibrant Garifuna communities. The Garifuna are a small ethnic group expelled by European invadors at the end of the eighteenth century from St. Vincent Island, and virtually the only black, Spanish-speaking Guatemalans in the country (they also speak their own language and quite a bit of English). One side of Livingston is dominated by the impoverished Garifuna, with their tiny wooden shacks, tin roofs, and no visible means of economic subsistence, and the other side by ladinos (people of mixed Spanish-indigenous decent) and a minority of Mayans. The main road is crawling with "tropical"-themed restaurants and small stores catering exclusively to tourists. After sipping mixed-fruit liquados (shakes) and eating your choice of sea life, you can be on the beach (what there is of one) within five minutes. The ladinos own the touristy stuff, and the Garifuna play the music and dominate the informal economy. For her part, Heather wanted to participate in that economy by having her hair braided on the street by a local woman. When the bill came 2 1/2 hours later it was three times what we were originally told. $33 lighter ($0.22/braid), we licked our wounds and bought another liquado. A really nice, unshaven, fifty year-old man in bare feet and baseball cap struck up a conversation with us about books. He told us about his band's U.S. tour last year (including a gig in Tucson), and was at pains to distance his much prided Garifuna culture from this fake-tropical ambiance. An hour later, he had walked us across town through his dilapidated neighborhood to a tiny, thatch-roofed cafe where he played his band's c.d. for us. We offered him $20 (a lot of money for this place) to burn a copy of his music for us and then naively left expecting him to drop it off at the hotel later in the day. He'll eat well this month, and we may never hear Punta Rock again. [Photos: 1 2 3 4 5] Another day of travel to the north brought us to tiny island town of Flores in the Peten [photos: 1 2], a region marked by its quickly disappearing rainforests and the classical Mayan ruins atTikal. Tikal National Park is a sprawling complex of pyramids, temples, and other structures dating from 3,000 bc to about 700 ad. We hired a very sharp guide who taught us as much about the flora and fauna of Tikal as he did about the ancient Mayans. The place was awe-inspiring to say the least, but for me the wildlife stole the show. Spider and Howler monkeys, toucans, rabbit-sized rodents, brightly colored turkeys, tarantulas, carpenter ants, woodpeckers, parrots, and other unknown colorful birds - some harder to photograph than others. By the end of the day clouds moved in to rescue us from the sweltering heat and we had the main plaza to ourselves and our photographic eye. [Photos: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15]

This entry was posted by Jeff, on Monday, June 13, 2005. You can leave your response.