the best day and the worst night

I had decided that I didn't want to go to the beach again - there was still so much of the country to see and I'd already spent so many days at the ocean that I thought it wasn't productive to my trip. Michael and I had agreed to part ways on Friday, with him heading towards the beach and me going up north to the nature reserve of Tikal. Apparently, fate didn't think we should stop hanging out.

Since Thursday was our last day in San Pedro, we decided to make the most of it. It was probably the most beautiful day I´d seen here, with the sun coming out early in the morning and shining off the lake. We decided to go out kayaking one more time, and spent another hour paddling in the warm water and discovering more bright green shoreline. It's times like these that I'm happy I'm a NorCal girl, because although every Guatemalan I've talked to has warned me about the freezing temperatures of the lake, I thought it was like being in a warm bath.

After we got back to the hotel and dried off, Michael insisted we go into town to try the cheap local liquor, called Venado. Not even an hour later, we found ourselves sitting alone in a small concrete room with two wooden tables and a Gallo refrigerator, taking turns swigging from this bottle of nail-polish-remover-rum. We were pleasantly buzzed after that, and spent a good while discovering the non-touristy side of town, going down small dirt trails and up large cobblestone hills. I cursed myself so many times for not having my camera, as there was one point where we emerged from this amazing grove of coffee trees only to be at this small cliff that gave us a view of the entire town and lake. We followed that trail down and then the sound of thumping Latin music took us to another small 'bar'. There we had more Gallo and even more Venado. We were both a little drunk, but incredibly happy and I at least felt like I was in this fantastic dream.

Since our breakfast had been far in the past, we decided it was in our best interest to get some food. For the first time that we've been in San Pedro, we actually found something that tasted -great-; chicken garlic pizza and a side of mashed potatoes. Seeing as I only had a bagel for breakfast, I found myself eating most of the mashed potatoes while we both split the pizza. We spent a great deal of time at Nuevo Sol, laughing, talking to the people at the other tables, and reminiscing about the great sites we´d seen that day. When it was time to pay the bill, we discovered that we'd gone out with hardly any money (and what we had was already spent on liquor), so I went back to the hotel while Michael stayed and had a couple more drinks with the bartender. By the time I got back to pay, it was obvious that Michael hadn't eaten enough/kept drinking too much and my stopping/all the mashed potatoes had kept my head clear, so I helped him walk back to the hotel.

The walk back was difficult, as Michael was having a tough time going straight. In retrospect, I should have been so much smarter about this and had us stop at a cafe for a Coke or something, but at the time I thought the best thing I could do was get him into bed at the hotel. We made it up the flight of stone stairs from the street to the hotel mostly okay (with a couple small stumbles here and there). The entrances for the hotel are all outdoor on the balconies, including the stairs, and when we got to the last two flights of outdoor stairs, Michael got ahead of me. He must have turned the corner on the tile stairs too quickly, because as he started up the last flight (only four steps until our floor!) he lost his balance and went sideways. There are no railings on these slick tile stairs, and he landed right on his head and back onto the first flight of steps.

It was completely surreal. I dropped everything and went running to him where he lay at the bottom of the landing, thinking he was dead. I don´t even think he blacked out though, as he was responding quickly and said he felt no pain. I was so relieved that he was all okay and angry that I thought he was dead, that I actually slapped him. I´m incredibly embarrassed about doing that, but I guess there's that bit of Leon in me. Of course, immediately afterwards was when I saw the pool of blood under his head. My screams brought out several other guests in the hotel (who I later found out thought I was being raped and were coming to my rescue), and those people helped me get him back to the room. After cleaning him up (there was surprisingly a small amount of blood for a head wound - the most had been what I discovered on the stairs) and getting advice from a couple other people (as I was hardly in a good decision making state), we took him to the local clinic where four stitches were put into his head.

The doctor was very nice, seemed to do good stitching, and very patient with us both (me asking a million questions in poor Spanish and Michael turning his head back on the wound), but I was less than impressed with the facilities. Tiny concrete rooms that contained hardly any equipment, and the nurse actually had to hold the plug of the lamp and the extension cord together so that it would work. The entire process was quick though, and thanks to the help of the others in the hotel, getting there and back was very easy. Within moments after arriving back to the room, Michael was fast asleep.

I wish I could say the same for myself. Of course I was amped up from the action and awake with worry, but my stomach was also making it impossible for me to drift off. Not long after we got back, I found myself in the bathroom nearly every half an hour with my body trying desperately to rid itself of the mashed potatoes that had probably saved me from my own drunken behavior. It's now Saturday afternoon, and I´m only now finding it possible to keep down food. It certainly has made it difficult to be a good nurse for Michael.

I am surprised with how well he is healing. Michael has told me that his head doesn't hurt at all and the stitches look like they're doing their job. He is suffering a bit from a bruised arm and what may be a bruised rib, but between the pain medication and spending a lot of time resting, I think he's actually been getting around better than I have. Yesterday we switched hotels to one with easier access and cable TV, both important factors in the healing process.

It's hard to say what the rest of the week is going to be like. I have no real desire to leave his side right now, and I doubt he wants to go surfing, but I don't think either of us really want to spend the rest of the week in San Pedro - after all, if you're not going to be doing much of anything, there should at least be good food. There's talk of going back to Antigua, but we'll make those sort of decisions later. Tikal will still be there next week.

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On a brighter note, pictures! I finally found a good computer/took the time to complete the upload...enjoy!


Our view of Lake Atitlan from a restaurant in San Pedro.


Performers showing their stuff in the town center - they sucked at dancing.


The scariest ferris wheel I've ever been on.


How I felt at the top.


It sure is quite a lake.


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Miss and love you all!