Recognizing Transition

Last year while visiting Lake Atitlan, I had noticed that things in San Pedro were in transition. Along with a new mayor, there had been drug busts of many dealers (the most powerful being Mayan Grandmothers. Not joking). The mayor had a platform to clean up San Pedro, which in the eyes of many Mayan townspeople, had been overrun by hippy tourists whose recreational drug use had trickled down to the locals in the form of crack addiction.

So along with the drug busts (which may have been federal, if I remember correctly), the Mayor outlawed full moon parties. The Lake was famous for its full moon parties, and San Pedro was often a jumping point for them. With the hope of putting an end to these parties, things such as renting sound systems to party promoters and transporting people via boat taxi to desolate party locations were made illegal.

After a few years of living my winters and springs in a perfect party bliss, I recognized the transition. More and more hotels, restaurants, roads, etc were being built, yet tourism had decreased. Whereas in years previous, travelers got to San Pedro and stayed weeks, months, even years, living, sometimes working, always spending- contributing to the local economy- now, there were very few new tourists who would stay for longer than a few days. There had been a large community of people from around the world who owned restaurants, worked, and/or partied together. This community had dwindled to almost only people who were deeply tied to San Pedro because they owned businesses there, or had boyfriends or girlfriends that did. And even some of them sold their businesses, and left. So, last year, I spent most of my time in San Marcos, where my friend had the only bar in town, and a few cool girls working for him. It was a great time, but even that didn’t last. His lease was not renewed, so this year… no bar over there. Back to being a paradise of quiet yoga retreats. Fine for some, but not for me.

So, more about this year: most importantly, Lake Atitlan- the lake itself, became sick. Or should I say, it was sick for a while, and finally started to show symptoms. Apparently, a thick layer of algae called cyanobacteria bloomed on its surface. I heard it smelled like dead animals and was due to nitrogenous things including pesticides, sewage, laundry detergent, etc. This completely killed the tourism. I came just after this, shortly after the layer was gone, and the lake was back to its seemingly beautiful self. Only on the outside though- the problem has not been solved and the lake is not safe to swim in. A few days before the New Year, other tourists, many who’d previously been to the Lake, came to party. We spent our money in the establishments had just been empty. But the vibe was different for me, once again.


Also, the authorities had started putting foreigners in prison for small drug offenses. There was a list of extranjeros (the word means stranger and is a term for non-guatemalans) who'd been living in town for years. The people on this list were targets for the police, who claimed the people sold drugs. This was not true. Some of my friends were on this list. Some of my friends left Guatemala because of this list. Had I spent enough time there recently, I could have been on the list. One of the first people on this list was a rotund Italian guy in his 50's who lived out of town and rode a motorcyle. His house was the first searched, when no one knew about the list, and the police found 4 or so pot plants. He was given a 5 year prison term.


After the Lake, I went to El Salvador, where the organization I was supposed to volunteer with was located. As it turns out, the girl who started the organization (a friend of a friend), is in San Francisco, and should have told me the organization was dependent on her being there. ( It was extremely unprofessional and actually straight –up fucked up of her- what if I had not been a casual traveler familiar with the language, the region, the way things work down there?) My volunteer position teaching English, and the program, were sort of defunct, and instead of finding a different gig (possibly paying), I appreciated fate for what it was. Yes, if I had not gone to Central America for this thing, I could have taught in Korea again for a winter camp for a month, gotten paid, flown over for free, hopped to Thailand for a cooking course (this was my other option when I had been planning back in September).

But everything happens for a reason. My trip back to the Lake was a confirmation that it is no longer a place I want to spend a lot of my time, as I did in the past. I used to plan on moving back there, permanently. I have land there (or, at least, the title for it….) I enjoyed the company of a few great friends while I was there, but I was not sad to leave. It was closure. In the process, I had closed the chapter of my life that was Guatemala. And with every door that closes, a few others open.