November 6, 2008

a local girl who works at a hotel in San Pedro

We settled down in San Pedro, an interesting mix of tourists, cafes, restaurants, traditional Mayans, and drug dealers. We took a walk into the poor part of town, where the people make what money they can harvesting coffee, corn and fish. Narrow and twisty cobblestone streets were lined with crumbling brick and concrete buildings. Like an endless maze, the streets weave over and around the hills, following the lay of the land rather than forcing the land into a grid. Children played soccer and flew kites in the street. Villagers dressed in traditional Mayan textiles. Everyone was eager to say "Hola!"

Luke told me the dangers of taking pictures in Guatemala. People here can be very old fashioned and superstitious. When white tourists first started flocking to San Pedro there was a rumor that a man was stealing the souls of children with his camera. One day when a man was seen taking pictures of a young boy, they killed him. In another part of rural Guatemala, a man was taking pictures inside of a church. This is seen as a "fuck you" to god and he gets pissed and vengeful. The villagers dragged the man outside of the church and beat him to death.

coffee trees on the outskirts of San Pedro

I was aware of these dangers, but I didn't let it get in the way of a good shot. I tried to read people to see their reaction to the camera, I also asked them directly if I could take their picture, I was turned down on many occasions.

We spent the evening drinking beers and playing darts with the tourists. Slovakis, Germans, Australians, New Zealanders, Canadians and Americans, all in their twenties and beautiful. It reminded me of home a little too much. Luke and I finished up the night scarfing down $1.50 hamburgers, drinking beer and talking about women.