November 14, 2002
In Flores

In Flores now. I just got back from a ride across the lake and back in a lancha. Unlike the muddy brown rainy-season Usumacinta, Lake Peten Itza was deep green on the way over, silver on the way back as the wind came up. It reminded me of the last time I had seen the family in San Jose.

On my last day here in February, I took a boat across, carrying a cake for a going-away party. On the way there, a strong wind came up, rocking the boat from side to side and slowing our headway to nearly nothing. The lanchero yelled that he was going for shore, and aimed for spot between the two villages. It was several miles from my destination, but after juggling the cake and finding no life vests, I was happy to get out. I carried the cake up the steep slope to the road high above, flagged down a pickup, and made it to the town before the rain began. Today I delivered photos of that party, all of us at the table (who is that huge, grey-bearded gringo?), and a shot of the grandson Alan with icing all over his face.

Posted by Dave at November 14, 2002 05:04 PM