Spent the first night in Nebaj and awoke before 6 am to the sound of marching band music. That was so sad, because it wasn't Guatemalan music at all. Plus it wasn't very good!
The day before, on the bus heading to Ixil, which is known for its remote beauty and traditional architecture, the bus was blaring "Baby Don't Hurt Me" on its ample speakers. I rarely hear traditional music -- I think I hear more Guatemalan style folk music in Tucson than here.
Anyhow, that first night we decided to find a restaurant that was a little outside of town, and had to ask directions. That can be difficult, and we ended up walking a few miles in total, but the churrasco (grilled beef) was well worth it.
So, after waking to the sound of the school band, we grabbed a quick breakfast and were on the trail to Acúl by 7 am. Acúl is a 7 km walk up and over a mountain from Nebaj. Early in the walk, 3 dogs were accompanying us -- a female and two interested males. It seemed like she was nearing that time, and one male was considerably more aggressive than the other, who went home after a few minutes.
We were surprised how long they stayed with us -- we thought one or two km would have been a lot, but as we entered the village, the two were still with us. We worried that they may be a liability, because if they killed a chicken the people would blame us.
About half of the village was very friendly, and returned our "Buenos Días" in a very friendly manner. One woman started screaming shrilly, not straight at us, but almost. I have no idea what that was about.
Then a group of four girls, around 12 years old, would stare at us, and then after we passed they'd run fifty feet ahead and wait for us to pass again. They didn't seem to speak anything more than the most basic Spanish, but laughed at us quite a bit. It was a little unnerving. It got worse -- soon there were six or seven boys and several more girls, and they started shouting something about "Allez gringo" or "Alllambrinco" -- we couldn't tell.
The dress they wear is exceptional, but the Ixil would not give permission to have their picture taken, even when we offered a little money.
Just past the town is a cheese farm (if you haven't been to Guatemala, you might not know what a luxury this is!) that also serves as a tourist destination. Not one that is overrun by tourists, though. Sure, we have rooms. Uh, let me get my clothes out of here, I shower here sometimes. Why is the bed wet? Uh, I guess someone who was wet sat on it. Hmm, I never noticed that window is broken. The other room? You'd rather stay there? --This was the grandson of the Italian immigrant who founded the farm in 1938.
The view is like something in the Swiss Alps. Very green, dairy cows, wood buildings, clouds starting to drift over the mountains...
No, they're not our dogs. They just followed us from Nebaj.
Lunch was huge -- chicken (raised on the farm!) in a brown gravy, tortillas with fresh cheese (all from the farm), rice... We saved the bones for our escort dogs. We hadn't encouraged their presence at all up to this point.
Right after lunch, we went to read in our room. We were worn out from all the walking, and needed a break before the next bit of exertion.
Shortly into our reading it started to rain. Hard. I fell asleep for probably 2 hours. When I woke up, the girl dog had finally packed up and left, but the male was still there, and was not getting along with the dogs that lived there. So much growling.
We walked several more miles, getting to know the town better and heading further west as well. Finally, after 6, our other escort disappeared.
There were two other guest parties, one of whom we got to know a bit -- a father and son from Huehuetenango.
We chatted with them till nine, and again at breakfast Wednesday, and then headed out on our next trek.
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