The School of Natural Living

This is a long entry - because there is so much to tell and describe.  I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry.  The experience just can't be condensed any further!

I just spent about 24 hours on a Perma-Culture Eco-Farm / School just outside Santiago on Lake Atitlan.  It was an amazing and memorable experience.  We arrived about 2pm on Wednesday ... already discovering in the process of our departure/pick-up that our hosts function on Guatemalan time.

We arrived to one of the most beautiful pieces of land, covered in lush grass, foliage, crops, trees and buildings, carved out of the rock of the steep mountain-side.  Our first sight, though, was the three hot tubs emerging from the lake at its shore . . . well, two were emerging, one was fully submerged.  We discovered that with the changing water level of the lake the first one had fully succumbed to rising tideline - the other two have been under water for a couple of years, but have recently re-emerged, although they are expected to be under water again within the next couple of years, as the water levels are rising by about a meter a year with the global change in climate. 

As an aside, I discovered that a huge chunk of San Marcos is expected to be underwater within about 15 years.  Barrio 3 is the highly populated and built up area, mostly inhabited by gringos, that I currently live in; and was apparently just part of the lake until about 50 years ago anyway.  It was built up with land-fill as the water level of the lake dropped and the shoreline receded.  It will be very interesting to see what happens over the next 10-15 years.  Enough about that though - back to the school! 

Upon our arrival we were shown to our house for the night; at the top of the property, up about a million stone steps.  It was stunningly beautiful - but just a taste compared to the view of the property, lake and mountains from there.  We took some time to settle in, ground our bodies and our belongings and then headed down to begin our learning journey. We started in the outdoor cooking area, learning to make tortillas. The dough was already prepared; our job was to learn to make this dough (maza) into round little tortillas, without sticking it our hands, dropping it, squishing it, or creating weird wavy elipticals.  Much tougher than you might think - and humbling to watch how quickly not only our teacher did it, but also her 13 year old son - who assisted as translator when necessary. 

The hosts of the school are a family of eight - Antonio is a gringo, settled in Guatemala for many years, Susanna is an indigenous woman born here on the lake, and they co-parent six beautiful children.  Amongst them there are three languages: English, Spanish and Kekchiquel.  Antonio speaks English and Spanish, and I think understands some Kekchiquel, Susanna understands English quite well, but only speaks Spanish and Kekchiquel.  Their oldest son, Marlon, is fully fluent in all three languages - I think the only one, so far, in the family as such - although all the children are learning English through their dad.  The blend and contrast of languages and cultures here was quite beautiful and striking.  Susanna was our cooking teacher for the 2 days and I feel like I learned almost as much about Kekchiquel culture as I did about Mayan cooking in that process.

Once tortillas were accomplished (I am quite proud of my ability to make them quickly and remarkably round - though I come nowhere close to their skilled speedy hands), we wandered back up some stairs, around a big tree, down some stairs, past the fish pond and arrived essentially just in front and slightly below the outdoor cooking area - into the lower kitchen.  My photos are wholly inadequate to depict the setup of the property - but because it is carved into rock, it curves around in some ways that are sometimes less than efficient walking-wise, but absolutely beautiful.  In the kitchen we learned to make guacamole and chilmole.  Guac I'm quite comfortable with already, but Chilmole was a new one on me: it's essentially a tomato salsa with mint.  Oh, my, Goddess!!!!!!  Wow, was it good.  And then we ate.  Tortillas, guacamole and salsa.  Surprisingly filling and SOOO yummy.

Our next task was to make chuchitas with the remaining tortilla dough - turns out it's essentially the same dough for several of my favourite dishes.  mmmmmm.  Chuchitos are what I knew as Tamales in Canada.  They are corn dough wrapped around filling (usually tomato sauce and veggies or meat), wrapped in a corn husk and steamed.  Learning to make them is again about learning to maneuver the dough - you start by making a tortilla, cup it, fill it, fold it and wrap it.  My friend Sophia calls this the art of Edible Origami.

Mid-way through the process the rain began to fall . . . in earnest, so we hustled into the kitchen to complete assembly and get the chuchitos into a pot.  We watched as Susanna created a steamer out of a big pot - lining the bottom with corn husks to cover the water, and then stacking in our little packets, covering the top with a damp cloth before putting the whole thing on the stove.  With that task complete, save for letting them boil, we returned to our house, got our towels and headed for the Mayan sauna.  We decided that sauna was better before dinner, rather than after.

The sauna was amazing - and a bit different from the ones I've gotten used to in San Marcos.  Like everything else, it's quite traditional, rustic and brilliant.  An open fire in the corner, with a big barrel of boiling hot water beside it, a rock face to be splashed with water (for steam) behind it, and a big tub on the floor filled with a mix of the boiling water and some cold water from the spigot beside the fire.  The mix of water in the big tub is used to pour over your body as you sweat out the toxins.  It's brilliant.

Boneless after our sauna, we climbed back up the many steps to our house where we found our dinner in a couple of pots on the stove.   Chuchitos and frijoles (black beans).  I was so baked I fell asleep without eating - it just required too much energy.  Fortunately, chuchitos are just as yummy re-heated the next day - so I had mine with my tamales for lunch on day 2.  Antonio had set us up with some 'camp' lanterns before our sauna, as the only power on the property is solar or gas.  The lights are plugged in to solar panels during the day and used for light at night.  Their longevity is determined by how sunny the day was.  Between the sauna, the day's activities, and the lack of artificial light stimulation, it was an early night for all of us.  I'm always amazed at how much earlier I naturally go to sleep when there is no electricity - even if it's just lights . . .somehow I stay up later when I have power.  hmmmm . . .

The sunrise over the mountains from the house is stunning.  I know this intuitively, even though I was too tired to drag my butt out of bed to see it.  I vow to be more diligent next time I stay there - and I am reasonably confident there will be a next time.

Day 2 started with fresh fruit, Guatemalan coffee and hot chocolate and chilling out.  Like Day 1, it flowed at a very leisurely pace.  Our agreed-to 8am start actually looked more like fruit starting to be cut at 8:30, leisurely noshing while traditional corn gruel and black bean cereal was made, followed eventually by our lesson beginning around 10:30ish. 

Day 2's project was Tamales.  This we made almost from scratch.  Susanna had soaked the rice overnight already and, after drying it in the sun, Antonio and Marlon had ground it. We started with the ground rice in a big pot, well covered in water - milky from the rice.  We cooked that, stirring constantly, until it began a thick glue-like paste that took two to stir.  This was deeply enlightening - tamales are not corn; they are rice - and the dough is a surprisingly yummy gruel. Since only one of us needed to stir the pot for most of that time, we worked on the sauce at the same time.  The ingredient list was beautiful and the end result spectacular.  Incredibly flavourful, not too spicy - sooo good.

When it was done cooking, we let the gruel cool while we finished making the sauce, chilled out and had more coffee and then we returned for our next origami lesson.  We filled large leaves (I assumed banana, but turns out they are Calla-lily leaves!!!), with the rice mixture, created a dip for the sauce (just like mashed potatoes and gravy) and then gently spooned the rice up and over the sauce creating a little volcano like thing.  Then the precarious folding began.  Many leaves later, we again watched as Susanna filled a big pot with a little water, a bunch of corn husks and then piled the tamales in to the pot, carefully creating a circle of them, leaving the middle an empty pillar for steam to rise; and again, covering it with a wet cloth.  This time they tamales were cooked on the fire outside - as the sun was shining.

While the tamales cooked, we headed down to the lake for our solar heated hot tub.  My first bath in months - and only my second truly hot water experience in Guatemala.  aaahhhh.  Being the true gringos we are - we gathered some clay from the lake bed (it's prolific at their shore), and covered our faces in it for skin masks.  We hung out in the hot tub until we were prunes while the kids giggled at us and swam in the lake around us.  Once fully cooked, we each hopped in to the lake to rinse of the mask and enjoy a cool swim.  All of us hopped back in the hot water once more for a soak before we headed back up for lunch.

After our leisurely (and enthusiastic) consumption of lunch, we cleaned up, said our goodbyes and prepared to head back.  That too ended up being a long process - from rounding everyone up, to good-byes, to departure (including bailing out the back of the boat to counter its small hole) . . . and then a slow trip across the lake with a very full boat. We had one more person on the return trip, and a full gas tank. (apparently we had come across the day before on fumes).  We landed back in San Marcos around 4pm, less than an hour before the rains started again. whew! 

It's hard to believe it was only slightly more than 24 hours - it felt like more than 2 days.  There is something to Guatemalan-time.  Days are full without being hectic.  There is time to just be, and it all gets done . . . eventually, and what doesn't isn't important.