| It's a Somerset Maugham story, a Humphrey Bogart movie. It's quiet, remote, quaint. It's the island-town of Flores in Lake Pet�n-Itz� in the Pet�n, which is the northernmost Department in Guatemala. Tourists stop here to get the bus that goes to the Mayan ruins of Tikal. Most people are so intent on getting to Tikal that they miss something more beautiful -- the island of Flores. When you arrive at the tiny airport in Santa Elena on the mainland, you take a taxi across the causeway to the island of Flores. With no reservations, you take a room at the Hotel Pet�n, a plain inexpensive two-story building. You look out the window at the lake filtered through the fronds of the coconut palm. Green yellow-breasted birds flutter there. They match the trees. Peace. Flores is a romantic place, although very hot and humid. The clouds are constantly stirring. Rainstorms move through continuously, making for an ever-changing kaleidoscope of cloud formations, white on white and grey on black. Dramatic and beautiful. The whole island is covered with buildings which house its population of two thousand. You can walk all over the island in a few hours via the cobblestone streets. In the center of town you find a few stores for tourists. Some of the architecture reminds you of that in the southern part of the United States. There are also stucco houses with thatched roofs or covered with l�mina (corrugated tin). A Spanish baroque church sits on the highest point on the island. Every place you visit can be identified by its odors in your memory. Here, it's the damp smell of the lake, the smell of mold indoors, the smell of grease and spices cooking, the pine used to fire the stoves, but subliminally something else comes through -- the sweet aroma of the jungle which surrounds the lake. There are places in the Pet�n where no one has ever been, except the indigenous people. Many places can't be reached by vehicle, only by foot or helicopter, (or flying saucer?). The Pe�en is a wild and magical place. Flores is the successor to the last stronghold of the Maya. The Itz� from Chich�n-Itz� in the Yucatan migrated south in 1194 A.D. and founded the city of Tayasal where Flores is now. Cortes spent three days here on a march from Mexico to Honduras. He didn't harm it and continued on his way. On this remote island the Itz� (Maya) were able to maintain their independence until 1697. The ancient name of the lake was Chaltuna. The Itz� renamed it and added the word pet�n, which some say meant island. Eventually the whole area carried the name Pet�n. The lake which is twenty miles long and three miles wide is the largest of the fourteen lakes in the Pet�n. The rainfall in the Pet�n varies from seventy inches to one hundred-fifty a year. The hottest months are April and May, just before the rains break, when it gets above one hundred degrees. You are there in the month of May. From your window at the Hotel Pet�en you hear the drone of the motorized canoes with canopies going back and forth to the mainland and other islands. Like taxis, the canoes are individually owned, decorated with Christmas lights and colorful streamers. The owner paints his name on it with pride. It's his livelihood. The first time you choose Francisco's canoe. You think he's the best so you always wait for him. But you don't have to wait much, he's usually waiting for you, grinning. He's not what you expect a canoe driver to be -- bored with tourists. He treats you with the freshness of someone who has invited you to his home, with the same welcome, politeness, kindness, and enthusiasm to tell you about his island. That's the way it is with each person you encounter. The man in the hotel where you stay proudly insists on showing you his kitchen. The attitude of the people is, "It's such a pleasure for us to have you. We've been waiting all our lives for you to come." One morning Francisco takes you to an uninhabited island so you can go swimming where the water is clear, clean and warm. You sink down in the white mud up to your ankles and squish it between your toes. You reach down and bring up a handful of tiny sea shells. Every restaurant in Flores seems to serve chicken. The restaurants have no menu, so you ask, "Qu� hay?" What is there today? You're there for four days and every time it's something about chicken. It's chicken with chicken and chicken, and chick-chicken, chick-chick. It gets to be a joke. By the time you get back to Antigua you're ready for a tough steak. Flores has a pensi�n, a medium class hotel, and the very jazzy Maya Internacional in Santa Elena on the mainland where the airport is. One night Francisco takes you there in his canoe. You want a change of scene and also to get away from the chicken, but you still end up eating chicken. The hotel has extensive grounds and keeps some typical jungle animals in cages for the visitors to scrutinize. You think this is very sad. But one spider monkey has charmed his way into becoming a pet and is allowed to be free. You and he have fun holding hands and playing. He especially enjoys tangling his fingers in your hair. After dinner you walk back to Flores on the causeway. The air is lit with fireflies, although it isn't dark yet. It's very hot, so you go up on the roof of your hotel to cool yourself and to watch the clouds. A storm is gathering them. You see a light. It isn't a helicopter, an airplane, or a searchlight. It makes a pattern. It goes up, turns ninety degrees, then horizontal, then ninety degrees straight down behind a cloud. It happens slowly enough for you to think about it, but it moves faster than an airplane or a helicopter would seem to at that distance. Later some friends tell you about a similar experience in the ruins of Tikal, where they slung their hammocks for the night. Five of them sat and watched a series of patterns made by a light for twenty minutes. Hmmnn. When you take the bus from Flores to Tikal it rains. The water that rushes beside the road looks like flowing milk. In your opinion Flores is more beautiful than Tikal. The post cards they sell don't do it justice. They are taken of the island. They should be taken on the island, in the experience of being in Flores. The people of Flores are more tranquil and more friendly than they are in other parts of Guatemala, if that's possible. You gear up to take a shot of a path and some houses and just as you shoot, a man pops out his head. He's working on a fence. You apologize because you're not supposed to take pictures without asking. When you say you're sorry, he says, "That's all right. Vaya." Go ahead. He isn't upset. You can afford the best hotel with air conditioning, but you don't go there because you are afraid you'll miss out on the local color. In an elegant hotel you're so isolated. The hotels on the west side of the island with a view of San Benito Island are preferable to those on the south side where one can see the traffic on the causeway. Yes, it's hot in Flores and you have to wait four hours in the airport for your plane to take you back to Antigua. But it's all worth it to go to a place so beautiful that even the insensitive plunderer Cortes did not destroy. ***** |
VACATION #14 THE ISLAND-TOWN OF FLORES |