Lake Atitlan - does this look like work?

This morning I wake early by the sun rising over Lake Atitlan and beaming through the picture windows at the foot of my bed.  I stretch, basking in the view and the suns early rays.  Enjoy the chilly air the and heavy cozy feeling of rough woolen blankets.  Contemplate a return to sleep.  Then I remember.... this is a business trip and I am supposed to be working.  Is there anything work-like I could take care of before I go riding at 9?  Yes in fact there is.  I need to finish specifications for some commissioned works before I visit the two artists tomorrow.   OK lets get that knocked over.  Done and emailed by 8am!  Time for a coffee and croissant before my ride.
Spectacular morning.  Mist lifting and temperature quickly rising.  Canella (Cinnamon) is the sweetest little horse.  Her ears constantly swivel back to catch my voice.  She is responsive to the slightest shift in seat or pressure of leg. Pure delight to canter along the lake shore.  There are no other people.   Just my guide who who leads us on a trail towards Santiago - an area I am not familiar with.
We stop an an elevated point overlooking the lake and the view is spectacular.  Jose indicates I should dismount and follow him down a trail.  I hesitate for a split-second.  Isolated place.  Noone knows I'm here. Strange man.  Mysterious overgrown jungle trail.  This is possibly a situation the guidebooks would use as an example of tourist doing something very dumb.  But then I've seen how Jose is with the horses - they love him and clearly do not fear him.  Maybe doesn't make it less dumb but I decide to trust in that.  I follow him down the trail, skidding on my arse part of the way as the loamy soil gives way under my boots.  Pushing aside vines and heavy branches.  I loose sight of him.  Then turning a corner come out in to a clearing on the lake shore.  Stunning view and a flat rock to sit on.  This is how it goes - taking small leaps of faith.   Friendships are forged and unforgettable travel experiences are made.   A small indian village on the lake shore. The three volcanoes swim and and out of sight as clouds pass by overhead.  Two small stone cottages with smoke coming from chimneys.  Small kids playing.  Chickens, roosters, dogs.  So homey.  As neat and clean as you can imagine.  Even the dirt around the houses is swept.  We buy a cold drink and sit by the lake.  Soak up the view.  Some small conversation but no pressure to talk.  So mellow.  Jose and I get on the topic of life by the Lake Atitlan.  I mention how much I would love to live there some day, but that I worry there is not enough job opportunity to afford to live.  "No" agrees Jose "San Pedro no es bueno para el dinero. Sólo por amor".   So true.

Check out LALA Gallery Facebook at Latin American Lifestyle and Art (LALA) or the website at www.latinamericanlifestyleandart.com.

View from bed

My office for the week

Trail to the stables

Sweet Canella - the most lovely little horse

Jose my guide

Just another magic view.  Volcano in the background

Cottage in the forest where we stopped for a cool drink

Lake Atitlan

Made by Hand...The future of Maya textiles and other indigenous arts

Long bus ride today from San Cristobal to Panajachel on the foreshores of Lake Atitlan.  I've done it before and it's a lovely ride.  The little mini-vans were not, in my opinion, designed for long journeys over bad roads (at least not with the comfort of the passenger in mind) but the scenery is amazing and I always feel a great sense of anticipation about arriving at the lake.  With pleasure I quickly discover for this trip I will be in good company.  These little buses are always full and the dynamics can be totally different.  One trip I swear for the entire 11 hours trip there was not one work exchanged between the passengers.  Happily this was not the case today and conversation flowed easily from the very first 'buenas dias" as I board the bus.  I sit in front of a lovely young British couple, Emma and Ronan, who are on week 6 of a 12 month travel sabbatical.  I think back and try to remember the feelings and thoughts I had when I first set off on my travel sabbatical beginning of 2010.  Its been more than 3 years ago and my priorities changed so completely in those first 12 months I couldn't imagine going back to the corporate life.  I wonder if the same thing will happen to them.  A friendly Romanian couple sit next to me and across the aisle is a petite American girl who looks vaguely familiar.  We soon figure out why.  Chris has been a tour leader for a Guatemalan based tour company the last three years making multiple visits to Roatan.  We know many of the same places and people and no doubt I have seen her on the island before.  We quickly fall into enjoyable conversation about our travels, swapping stories and tips about the different routes.  Just before the Guatemalan frontier we are have to pull up abruptly when the traffic stops.  People  are abandoning their cars and walking down the road.  Which is not a good sign.  I guess we'll be here for a while.  Turns out there is a Zapatista protest ahead.  They've closed the road.  Chris is well read on Mexican current affairs. Apparently there has been a lot of Zapatist unrest in the last weeks due to proposed governmental reform that further disadvantage the farmers and already marginalised indigenous groups.  We are stopped for about an hour.  When they open the road again we have to pay a "toll" to pass.  It's a small amount which ostensibly goes to helping the poverty-stricken rural indigenous communities who are pretty much ignored by the government.  These periodic and minor inconveniences are a regular part of travel in Mexico.  Chris seems really well informed on current event and the Zapatista agenda and fills us all in.  Cool.  
Chris and I are talking more about Mexican and Central American culture.  We get onto the topic of artisan products.  I comment that one of my challenges is to educate tourists on the different quality and origins of hand-crafts, and explain the higher prices in my gallery.   So many of the tourist souvensuir shops now are selling "imitation" indigenous crafts which are made in Asia.  They are much cheaper of course and to me, the difference in quality, both aesthetic and material,  is clear.  They are mass produced in factories using vastly inferior materials and have none of the cultural significance or artistic vision or the real thing.  Many of these mass-produced souvenirs will have the words "made by hand" "Roatán" or "Honduras" stamped on them giving the impression, or outright stating, that the item is a Central American handicraft.  Tourists literally don't scratch the surface and seem happy enough to spend their money on this and take it home as a gift or memento.  Especially at the cruise ship docks.  Chris tells me is becoming a big issue in Antigua, where she lives.  Many of the vendors in the street markets are selling textiles mass-produced in China but passed off as traditional Maya hand-weaving (ironically the women selling these textiles are dressed in traditional Maya textiles which ARE woven by hand in their villages and are seeped in ancestral knowledge and symbology).  The Maya women who are persevering with their highly skilled ancestral craft on the backstrap loom cannot compete because, in their ignorance, most tourists go for the cheaper option without an idea what they are buying or what impact their decision is having.  
The topic is top of my mind as just yesterday I was looking at a photo essay from Michael Wolf "Chinese Factory Workers and the Toys They Make" (Click here to see the Michael Wolf Photo Essay "Chinese Factory Workers and the Toys They Make").  While these toys do not compare to the art I deal in, it is a topic which is all-pervasive and often times I am pondering this most offensive assault of China's massive manufacturing and piracy capabilities on the art that I love.  Wolf's photo essay does a great job of humanising the industrial machine that is flooding the world market with cheap products of every possible imagining.  These factory workers are just people, with families, trying to make a living.  But the global impacts are huge and potentially devastating.  So what does "made by hand"  really mean to us and why is important?  There is some element of hand-work in all these Chinese factories and the people who work there are highly skilled at the repetitive task that they do.  The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines "artisan" as "a person who is skilled at making things by hand".  Does this make a Chinese factory worker an artisan?  I much prefer this definition which I found on Wikipedia.  "An artisan or artizan (from French: artisan, Italian: artigiano) is a skilled manual (meaning by hand) worker who makes items that may be functional or strictly decorative.   Artisans practice a craft and may through experience and aptitude reach the expressive levels of an artist".  It's the words "reaching the expressive levels of an artist" that are important.  Making the whole item from beginning to end with passion, love and artistic vision. And usually employing ancestral knowledge or techniques that have cultural significance.  With cheaply made synthetic and mass produced asian knock-offs flooding the market there is a danger that the real-deal gets relegated to those high-end stores and galleries where the more informed consumer shops.  Will this decline in economic incentive lead to a decline in the number of mothers who choose to pass this skill onto their daughters?  Or fathers to their sons?   To break the chain of ancestral knowledge which has existed, in some cases, for thousands of years, would be a tragedy.  The forums in which the artisans work are an important form of social cohesion which in some cases is all that is holding these fragile and fragmented communities together.  If these forums start to dissolve there is the risk of loosing a broader sense of cultural identity including language. The gradual shucking off of ancestral traditions and knowledge, or cultural markers can lead to an ancient race of people all but disappearing as it is absorbed into the modern-day country (or countries) in which is now resides.  Such as the Maya who live across Honduras, Belize, Nicaragua and Mexico.  So as travelers and consumers I think we have a real responsibility to help preserve these cultures and I'll put it out here.  When traveling and shopping for souvenirs, please ask some questions about where the item came from and how it was made.  Do some research online before you go and educate yourself on what to look for. And don't look for the cheapest option.  If a women spends three months making a shawl on a back-strap loom from cotton she picked, spun and dyed herself, she's not likely selling it for $5.  And if you hare happy to buy a $5 acrylic machine-made scarf while on vacation, at least do it with the knowledge that it was probably made in a Chinese sweatshop.  Ask yourself, does it seem FAIR and try and conduct your shopping habits to the principles of fair-trade.  Every little transaction makes a difference.
My mind thus occupied, the road flies by and soon we are beginning the steep windy decent into the lake.  Chrysta and I exchange information so we can meet up when I am in Antigua later in the week.  Was a good ride all things considered and I just make the last boat to San Pedro.

PS At LALA Gallery we have a personal relationship with every artist we represent and everything we sell is made by hand, in the country of cultural origin, using traditional methods.  If you want to see more check out the gallery page at Latin American Lifestyle and Art (LALA)

Passing the Zapatista roadblock

Young Maya girl in traditional dress selling cheap asian-made textiles on the street

San Cristobal de Las Casas

Arrived in Calle Tapacula in the cold grey pre-dawn just hoping that someone at Poasada Abuelito is informed of my early arrival direct from the overnight but from Oaxaca.  Hmmm everything dark and silent.  Gate firmly locked shut.  Doesn't look promising.  I knock very very quietly. Nothing moving.  Only a little dog sticks his head out from next door. He looks very much like an Australian blue cattle dog.   Wedge-shaped triangular head and a stocky little body.  He trots up and wags his tail, sniffs my ugg boots (some deeply engrained ancestral response to the sheep skin maybe) and then sits down looking prepared to wait the distance with me.  Maybe he's done this before - he seems to know something I don't.   I wait 10 minutes then knock again - really really quietly.   Nothing.  It's only 6:45.  The sign on the gate says reception opens at 8am.  Sigh. Sit down on the curb and pull my hoodie up over my head.  5 minutes.  I pat the dog.  My only companion on this long lonely trip I think (somewhat melodramatically).  I hear the lock rattle and the gate swings open.  Yay!  Sleepy tousled head sticks out. Hey there he says (in spanish).  "Sorry for the early arrival I hope you got my emails about it" I say all in a rush.  "I'm just a guest here actually" he says switching to English.  "I don't think there's anyone here yet to help you with reservations" and goes immediately back to his room. Oh great.  Way to make friends in a backpackers hostel.  Wake up whole dorm at an ungodly hour the first day I arrive.  Its enough to make me turn tail but instead I grab my bags and go in.  The dog follows me. I don't know if he lives there but haven't the heart to turf him out.  Sit freezing in the courtyard endeavoring to be as quiet as possible.  Reflect (in a kind of despondent and bitter way) how I really don't see what the fuss is about - San Cristobal is not all that.  And this posada is just really shabby and unwelcoming.  Grrr maybe I'll just stay one night and head to Lake Atitlan a day early.  Where the nice people hang out.  8am promptly the gate swings open and in bustles a young couple speaking to each other in French.  Give me a brief nod and pass me by.  What!  I've been sitting here in the freezing cold for two hours and not so much as a "can I help you?". GRRRRRRRR.
Im pondering the feasibility of dragging my heavily overloaded suitcase down the cobble stone street in search of a more welcoming venue when the heavenly smell of fresh coffee and freshly toasted bread comes wafting out of the window along with the mellow sounds of Brazilian samba.  Well maybe I should just wait a minute longer.  Then comes the gorgeous Simon and Agatha to say "hello lovely to meet you can I help you and would you like to join us for a coffee".  YES YES PLEASE.  It seems that there had been a problem with email the day before so my reservation request had not been seen but there is a private room available and it is cozy and spotlessly clean.  There is an activity and tour book aimed at getting to know San Cristobal better and I am able to sign up for a mexican cooking class which will feature MOLE!  Yay!
During breakfast I am drawn into a conversation with two girls who are super cool and amazing.  Nina, from Sydney Australia, is taking a year to travel around the world (alone!) after gradulating high school and is charming and mature beyond her years.  Alif a turkish girl who is biking (alone!) from Florida through mexico and Central America.  Wow.  What a woman.
SMILE.  This is the best posada on the planet.  
My cooking teacher is a tiny Maya women with a HUGE smile.  She arrives with all the ingredients we need.  When you see it all laid out: solid cacao; plantains; garlic; thyme; oregano; cinnamon; onion; tomatoe; bread; chillies; sesame seeds; peanuts; and more - you wonder how on earth this recipe ever cam into being.  Let alone produce a perfectly balanced, complex and completely unique plate of deliciousness.  The preparation is long and each ingredient has a very specific method of preparation.  The end result is incredible and I share my lunch with Nina and Alif.
After lunch Nina and I decide to go to the textile museum.  We haven't gone more than two blocks when the dark clouds overhead open up to a full on deluge.  We flag a cab and perservere through narrow steep streets that within minutes have torrents of water raging down them.  Finally arrive at the textile museum to find it closed till Sunday.   With the rain still pouring down we quickly agree to return to the Poasada and I find it a good excuse to cozy up in bed and watch "Anna Kerenina".  Wow what an amazing movie.  It goes direct to the heart of the real story without having to wade through all of Tolstoy's endless,  boring and incredibly detailed insights to the farming techniques of the Russian peasant.  Keira Knightly is wonderful in it.  I join a lively group in the posada kitchen for some more mole and then to bed.

Check out the LALA Gallery page at Latin American Lifestyle and Art (LALA)

On my last day in Antigua I meet my future husband! The luck I have!

I leave the hotel early.  An American lady approaches me on Calle del Arco to request I take a photo of her in front of the arch.  How do I know she is American (before she even speaks)?  Hundreds of minuscule visual queues bombard me all at once and my brain whirls around a couple of times before whispering to me behind raised hand (and with a slight lift of the eyebrow) - pssst, American!  I wonder if I give off the same tells to people so they conclude Aussie before they hear my accent.  Maybe not, I've been away a long time.  I love playing that game in airports.  Trying to guess from the walk, clothing, luggage and interactions where a person comes from.  This lady is not much of a challenge - there are some dead give-aways.    The abrupt way she approaches, thrusting the camera into my hands before even addressing me and startling me into taking a step backwards.  The air of utter confidence with which she makes her request - totally certain of being obliged.  The bouffant blond hair and ski jump nose.   Big white teeth and with yards of healthy pink upper gum showing when she smiles.  Knee length shorts and ankle length socks with white cross trainers.    Fanny pack (or bum bag for those of us from down under).  Well ok maybe I sketched in the fanny pack - I don't think she is actually wearing one but she should be.   Of course I say yes and as she moves into her camera-ready pose she proceeds to give me a set of detailed directions for how I should frame the shot.  All without loosing the hand-on-the-hip pose and gum-showing smile.   After I snap a couple of different angles (work it baby, work it.  She does) she checks my work.  I guess it is OK cause with a flip of her hair and a smack of her (chewing) gum she tosses a "thanks hun" over her shoulder and is off.  I don't know why, but the interaction makes me smile the rest of the way down the street.  Maybe the sheer brashness and confident exuberance.  I guess it's good that I have a small taste of it now - I'll be in Dallas in three days and everyone is like that there!

I go in search of coffee and then.... how about my luck! - a charming man in a fedora, and old-worldy type garb (crisp white-shirt, suspenders, pleated pants, and shop-keepers apron made from the hessian of a coffee bean sack) approaches me with a taster cup of coffee - offered with a flourish and a small bow.  It is delicious. Mild and mellow and lightly flavored with cardamon.  I happily follow behind him and he leads me to a tiny cafe just off Parque Central. I have never noticed it before.  He introduces himself as Hymie (pronounced with the guttural H as in the german and hewbrew languages).  I express an interest in the name (is it a typical Spanish name?)  Oh yes his mother was jewish from Argentina and his father converted to Judaism when they married.  He's originally from Argentina.  He is so totally charming the way only Latin men seem to be.
-Hymie "when are you coming back to Antigua Layla?"
-Me "well as a matter of fact, I'll be back in two weeks"
-Hymie "you must promise to come back to my coffee shop then"
-Me "Certainly.  The coffee is excellent"
-Hymie "Yes I want to know you better.  I think I want to marry you".
-Me "Oh thats good.  I've been looking for a husband"
-Hymie [slightly alarmed] "really?!"
-Me "oh yes.  why do you think I'm traveling all around like this on my own.  Im searching for a husband"
- Hymie [Getting the joke] "oh thats great Layla.  When you come back we go dancing together"
- Me [getting the joke.  He's maybe 5 feet tall and the top of his head just reaches my shoulder] "super Hymie.  I'm gonna do that".

I ask Hymie for a recommendation for breakfast place and he walks with me a couple of blocks to a small cafe - also which I have never noticed before, shakes my hand and disappears down the street. Presumably to charm more visitors into trying his coffee.  I enjoy a very nice Guatamalteco breakfast (tortillas, beans, eggs, chorizo, plantains, cheese) and more coffee which costs about $US4.  Then hurry back to my hotel to get the shuttle to the airport.  I'm going to Mexico City whoooohoooooooooo!!!!

Antigua - a hot shower and inner peace

Is there something better, on a chilly morning when your body is tired and achy, than a long shower with plentiful hot water?  Maybe.  But this morning I couldn't think of anything.  I have read that the key to contentment/inner peace/happiness, is being fully present in the moment and being appreciative of what, in that moment, is readily available to you.  Not allowing an undisciplined mind to chatter or wander around, exploring regrets of the past, fears of the future and desires unfulfilled.  This morning I totally got it.  Months of unrelenting heat, stifling humidity and trying to find relief under an indifferent trickle of tepid water from the sun-baked roof-top tanks.  This morning I hustle from under my cozy nest of blankets - goosebumps forming while I wait for the water to heat - to stand under a steady stream of hot hot water.  For a time I was aware only of those sensations and thought of nothing but how good it was.  Then I realised I was very very hungry.  Ok inner peace.   Nice while it lasted.  Now to feed my inner hunger.  I'm off in search of breakfast.

Antigua is..... just as I left her last time.  Beautiful and full of creative, artistic, delicious diversions.  Culinary and otherwise.  I have just a day to get a head start on some jewelry orders and I have a few issue to solve here - mainly how to get costs down without sacrificing quality of design and materials.  This is one category in which I would like to be able to offer better pricing to my customers.  I meet with my jewelers and discuss designs, materials and pricing.  I also meet with a potential new jeweler - the lovely Alejandra - she does fab bead work.  I have a great feeling from her and she seems to quickly understand me and what I want.  We go shopping together and buy a few "samples" as inspiration.  Have I mentioned how much I like "samples" in this line of work?  I really hope it works out with her.  Put in my orders with all three - the new LALA jewelry collection is going to be stunning.

The rest of the day is spent seeking inspiration and new ideas.  Getting some lessons in sales tactics from the tiny kids selling scarfs and other Maya handcrafts on the streets.  Taking lots of notes, photos (when permitted) and buying samples for items to include in LALA range this Christmas.  Its a bit overwhelming really.  Antiguan shops/galleries also provide great inspiration for merchandizing and displaying goods.  Such a wonderful concentration of talented and creative people.

I'm visiting with Monique - a lovely lady and my favorite art dealer - when a massive thunderstorm comes over us and torrential rain pours down.  Luckily Bistrot Cinq is just next door and I duck in for coffee and a mid-afternoon dessert - poached pears with toasted almond slivers and ice-cream.  Yum.

I never miss dinner at Hector's when in Antigua and tonight was as good as always. Beef tenderloin - medium rare - served over spinach in a blue-cheese cream sauce and roasted potatoes.  Cozy atmosphere,  Great service.
Nice one.

Back to Casa Cristina.  Cozy again under the heavy woolen blankets.  My mind returns to the topic of my morning shower - inner peace, contentment and being fully present in the moment.  There are only a few occasions where I can say I really experience this.  When scuba diving, when skiing, when traveling.  Not the kind of corporate travel I used to do (commute to work would be a better description for that), but the solo exploration of new places and culture purely for the pleasure of discovery.  Somehow suspended in time and isolated from worries of the past and the future.  Playing the role of observer rather than participant.  All senses fully occupied with what is being experienced right now.  A sense of anticipation only for what might happen in the next minutes. For me it is truly peaceful.  On that note.  Time for bed.  But maybe first... just one more hot shower.

More about Antigua
More about LALA

La Inglesia Merced. Antigua, Guatemala

El Calle del Arco.  Antigua, Guatemala

Street smarts.  Antigua, Guatemala

El Arco.  Antigua, Guatemala

What's behind the green door?  Antigua, Guatemala

Things are not what they seem.  Many of Antigua's beautiful gardens are hidden.  Antigua, Guatemala

Always with an eye to detail. Antigua, Guatemala

Handmade tiles and flowers. Antigua, Guatemala

Knock knock. Antigua, Guatemala

Parque Central. Antigua, Guatemala

Shop entry. Antigua, Guatemala

El Calle del Arco after the rain.  Antigua, Guatemala

A day in Copan - friends, horses, Maya fertility sites, cheese and turkeys :-)

Awesome day.  Garry and I spent the morning riding up in the mountains.  Went to Hacienda San Lucas for coffee and hiked in to see "El Sapon" the ancient Maya fertility site. Gorgeous scenery, fresh air, horseback riding and long talk with a good friend.  Was great to really catch up.  My idea of a perfect day.  Back to Copan for a delicious lunch at BCH -  chicken korma with coconut milk and almond sauce and served with saffron rice, minted yogurt and banana chutney.   Amazing.

Did a tour of some local art galleries and found some amazing Lenca jewelry which I will absolutely have to carry in LALA.  Bought some pieces as "samples" - haha "sample" is my favorite word in my new job.  I have a principle to only buy directly from the artist or individual artisan who makes the item.  But if I find great stuff in another gallery or store I always buy a few pieces to say "thanks for the find".  Then, in the case of jewelry I use the "samples" to test peoples reaction which is a nice business-like way of saying I get to parade around in fabulous assortment of jewelry and ask people "what do you think?" and then sit back to receive all the compliments :-D

Found some amazing hand-made leather shoes which look great and are super comfortable.  Also made in Honduras from an artisan lether working company called Mayan Roots.  Check it out.  Love their shoes!!
Mayan Roots
Such talented artists in Honduras and they are largely unknown around the world.  Love doing my little bit to try and change that.

Ran into some friends from Roatán in Parque Central.  Small world eh.  Garry and I went to San Raffael for a sample plate of their lush artisan cheeses.  Wow.  Great day.  My bum is sore - it's been probably a year since I was on horse back - and I'm tired.  Another early night. I'll be sad to leave my friends tomorrow.  Taking the Hedman-Alas bus to Antigua. Oh yes Antigua.  Can't wait :-D

Latin American Lifestyle and Art (LALA) at Facebook

Garry, a horse's bum, and a couple of turkeys

Me and Chica Loca (seriously that's the name of my horse). 

The view is worth the climb (especially when ChicaLoca is the one doing the climbing)

Me and Chica Loca again.  She really wasn't all the crazy.  Maybe in her youth.... could I relate?  oh yes

Beautiful gardens in Hacienda San Lucas where we stopped for coffee

Maya fertility site - Los Sapos -  on the grounds of Casa San Lucas.  

Los Sapos means the frog or toad.

Hilly cobblestone streets of Copan

Tuk tuk at parque central

Parque Central Copan

Parque Central in Copan

Maiz features prominently in Maya diet and religious and cultural symbolism

And I'm off again... on the second LALA buying trip (yes that means I actually sold some stuff!)

Wooohooo it feels good to be off again.  Off the island.  Off on my second buying trip for LALA.  When I did the first buying trip, before the gallery even existed, I had no idea if I would ever be making a second.  But what do you know?  Since then I had actual customers and they actually loved my stuff.   It seems like Im inspired to blog when I'm traveling.  Looking back I see my last entry was during my trip to Nicaragua in May!!  Wow well a lot has happened since then.  I fitted out my little gallery/shop in West Bay and opened at the end of June.  Business has been pretty good!  Lots of positive feedback and support from local community and island visitors.  Kicked off a very awesome series of exhibitions called "Art in the Yard".  Took the opportunity to start work on a second LALA location which should be ready to open in January 2014 - a gallery/cafe concept which Im really excited about.  Now we are heading into the wettest month of the year and I've closed the gallery to go on my second buying trip and stock up for high season.  Why didn't I blog about all that?  I don't know.  Maybe I'll go back and update one of these days.  Meanwhile you can pretty much see the whole story in photos if you look at the LALA facebook page.
Latin American Lifestyle and Art (LALA) at Facebook

But for now, lets stay in the present moment.  I'm sitting on the CM Airways flight from Roatán to San Pedro Sula, relieved and totally exhausted.   A hectic last month a super-hectic last couple of days in the rush to leave Roatan.  Racing against the clock to get LALA I packed up and closed (for a month), LALA II to lock-up stage and move in before I left.   I didn’t get much sleep the last couple of nights and I wasn't sure I was going to make it!  The apartment/shop and deck is pretty much done but the yard looks like, and in fact is, a huge construction site.  Lucky I am that Kelly, super-star house/dog sitter, is pretty resilient cause my dogs are having a field day in the huge piles of earth from the excavation.   And it’s starting to rain.  That is not your ordinary rain, but rather the beginning of wet-season which brings the type of steady downpour that can last for days or even weeks.  Rain, mud, dogs, half-finished house - not a great combination.  But as the little twin-propeller plane gains altitude over my island home, I can do nothing but wave good bye and focus on the hugely exciting task ahead - new LALA inventory for high season.

From San Pedro Sula its the Hedman-Alas bus to Copan Ruins.  I settle back in the comfy air-conditioned seat and prepare to relax with a book and maybe catch up on some sleep.  Make the mistake of checking emails quickly and find this gem from a friend in West Bay (my new address).  

"Hola! You must have left early this morning. FYI - Kara & Charlie [my dogs] were running around up in Lighthouse Estates this morning and then they went swimming in the Infinity Bay pool! LOL!"

Bloody Hell!  The fence on the new house turns out to be no match for Charlie's Houdini escape talents and Kara devotedly follows him where ever he leads.   It’s low (tourist) season and the resorts are largely empty but still, I don’t think the management team of Infinity Bay (luxury beach-front resort) will be all that impressed to have two muddy dogs cavorting in the pool.  Have just called Orville, my awesome contractor with (only a small amount of) tension in my voice to see if he can figure out how the dogs are getting out.  He tells me 'just you relax Lala.  Ain't no problems in this life that don't got solutions.  I'm gonna fix that fence for you.  I'm not letting those dogs go nowhere. It all be good mi-lady".  

Well with reassurance like that.  I email Kelly to give her the news and then i just......sit back and relax.  What else can I do?  Obviously not too troubled as I fall immediately to sleep.  Wake up just outside of Copan.  Garry is waiting at the bus terminal and we go directly to the new restaurant.  “British Colonial House” in Copan.  Take my recommendation to heart - you should check this place out.   
British Colonial House in Copan

The multi-level and largely open-air restaurant/bar/cafe directly over-looks parque central in Copan.  Its beautifully decorated to create both a welcoming homey vibe and (upstairs) the perfect ambiance for fine dining.  The food is marvelous and the menu so varied.  I give it a good try trust me on that.   The cool night air moves in and it’s such a relief after the months of stifling heat in Roatán.  Back at the house I happily pull on my ugg boots and watch half a movie with Sam and Lexi before falling in a wonderful sleep.

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British Colonial House (BCH) upper floor for fine dining

View from BCH upper floor

Garry and Sylvia on the upper floor of BCH

British Colonial House (BCH) middle floor - lounge, bar, cafe.  Wonderful view to Parque Central

British Colonial House (BCH) lower floor

BCH view to Parque Central from the 2nd (middle) floor lounge

BCH 2nd (middle) floor lounge

Myths and Legends of León

I start the day in a nice way.  Breakfast by the pool at Hostal Mariposa and an email informing me that my shipment of textiles, wood and ceramics I sent from Guatemala 7 weeks ago (!) has finally cleared customs.  The import duties are higher than I expected (about 25% of the value of the goods) for artesian products coming from within Central America.  I'm concerned about the cost impact but basically just relieved that these goods will soon be in Roatan (as soon as I pay the bill of course).

I don't have any big plans for the day.  Just to wander around in León and see what the city is like with people in it.  On Wednesday it was almost deserted due to the May 1st holiday.  I take the bus into Parque Central (only 4 cordoba!),  stop for a coffee, check out my map.  First thing I want to book my bus ticket back to Honduras.  TicaBus has a service from Managua direct to San Pedro Sula (via Tegucigalpa) which arrives same day so I don't have to overnight in Tegus - much better.  The bus route passes the outskirts of Leon so I hope I can board in Leon rather than travel back into Managua which is nearly two hours in the wrong direction.  The address for the Tica Bus office is "de la Inglesia San Juan, dos cuadras al Norte" (from the San Juan church, two blocks to the North).  It's a part of the city I haven't seen before and my route takes me through the Leon mercado - a couple of bustling blocks in the centre of the city filled with market stalls selling everything from mobile phones to watermelons.  I enjoy the sight of a farmer with his horse and cart loaded with fruit and vegetables, waiting in the line of taxies and lorries for access to the narrow inner roads of the market.  The little horse stands patiently in the heat, seemingly unfazed by the constant flow of people, baring horns and the buzz of tuk-tuk engines as the little 3-wheelers weave in and out of the crowd.  TicaBus agency is easy to find. The super-polite and efficient agent says "no problemo" to me boarding the bus in Leon and even organises a taxi to pick me up from Hostal Mariposa at 5:20 the next morning.  Excellent!

The highlight of my day has to be stumbling across "Museum of Folklore and Legend" just a couple of blocks south of the cathedral.   The museum is housed in a prison known as  "La XXI" (The 21) named for the year it was opened (1921).   For 50 cordoba (about 2 US dollars) I get a personal tour guide who, after apologizing (unnecessarily) for her english, leads me from cell to cell narrating the popular Leónese myths and folklore which are depicted by funky life-size papier-mâché dioramas.  Highly entertaining insights into the cultural history of Nicaragua.  It's likely the stories evolved as a way for repressed or marginalized minority groups to express themselves without fear of consequence. The stories have been, in context of the time, a way for the indigenous people to ridicule the Spanish for their general ignorance of cultural and spiritual etiquette.  Or for women (who until quite recently had very little freedom of speech) to tell of revenge exacted upon no-good, cheating, wife-beating Spanish husbands (usually from beyond the grave).

In between the cells are wall murals depicting the horrific human rights violations that were routinely carried out in the prison during the Somoza regime and didn't come to an end until La XXI was successfully secured for the Sandinistas in 1979.  I find it sometimes a bit hard to keep up as my tour guide cheerfully switches from narrating the quaint folk stories to describing the gruesome physical tortures endured by the prisoners. 

- ".... and this little Indian man with the big head will dance at your wedding.  His head is so big to show the Indian man is more intelligent than the Spanish man.
"...and here is where the prisoners were hanging upside down by their feets.  And here is where the head of the prisoner was held under water.
"...and this is the ghost of La Mocuana, daghter of an Indian king.  She was forced to marry a Spanish man from the army.  He tricked her into telling where is the gold of her father.  Then he killed her.
"...and this is the ghost of the women who married a Spanish army officer.  He gave her a baby, beat her and then went back to Spain.  She drowned her baby in the river and killed herself and now her ghost is always searching for her baby.
"...and this is the ghost of Grabhertit who....."
- "Sorry, who?"
- "Grabhertit".
- "Oh OK".
- "Jes. Grabhertit she was a very tall women who's husband was always cheating her.   Now her ghost is tricking the men by asking them to grab her tit.  When they come close she crush them against her chest until they die".
- "Er, right.  What a way to go".

After a really superb vegetarian lunch in the cool and tranquil courtyard of CocineArte I visit the Museo de Arte Fundación Ortiz-Gardián.  A stunning collection of contemporary Latin American art displayed in the shady courtyards and spacious rooms of a beautiful Creole Civil home.  I enjoy the arabic tiles and original flagstones floors, interior gardens and fountains as much as the art.  Given my recent experience buying art for LALA my mind is boggling at the work that must be involved in curating such an impressive collection.  I feel so appreciative for what they have accomplished.

Take an ice-cream break at this fantastic old-style ice-cream sundae bar and then head back to Hostal Mariposa for a swim, dinner and early to bed.    I say good night to my hosts Severine and Mike.  I've thoroughly enjoyed my stay. I hope to be back.

León Cathedral

Courtyard in the Spanish/Arabic colonial style

León Mercado

The courtyard at "La XXI"

The catwalk around "La XXI" where the prison guards would patrol

"Museum of Folklore and Legends".  The ghost of the Indian lady searching for her drowned baby.

"Museum of Folklore and Legend.  The ghost of Grabhertit.