Fuentes Georginas and the Fourth of July

This afternoon a group of us went to Fuentes Georginas, hot springs that are carved into the side of the mountains above the town of Zunil. To get there, we took a caminoneta through the town of Almolonga, known for its vegetable production. The town is astounding because every inch of arable land is under cultivation. The land is parcelled out into tiny, perfectly edged plots of every imaginable fruit and vegetable and many that didn’t exist even in my wildest dreams.

When the bus arrived in Zunil the downpour had started so we negotiated with a microbus driver to take us to the Fuentes instead of the usual pick up truck. This was slightly more expensive, but certainly for the best, since the road up to the Fuentes is steep and constantly switchbacking, driven at breakneck speeds. Our driver insisted on passing cars, trucks and even buses, making me feel like we were on a combination of a roller coaster, slip and slide and German autobahn.

The hot springs are unbelievable. They appear as if out of nowhere and run down and between rock faces covered with ferns, moss and climbing vines. They fall into a pool, which is finished on two sides, and whose bottom is paved with smooth stones. At the sources, the water is so hot it will burn you, but it quickly cools into steamy, sulfury goodness. The experience was even better because it was sprinkling while we swam. Next to the pools there’s a restaurant and bungalows for rent, but beyond that it’s only jungle, mountains and sky. The hot springs are as popular with Guatemaltecos for their medicinal qualities and the soothing setting as they are with the extrajaneros for soaking then chicken bus blues away.

We returned to Xela for our Fourth of July festivities, in the form of a pub crawl. As a gringa, someone bouth me a forty in almost every bar and by the end of the evening my head was swimming and we were all dancing to the Sublime, RHCP and other early ninetes pop that pervade all the bars' playlists.

On the walk home, the couple who lives up the block and I stumbled on a group little fourth of July fiesta. Fireworks are huge in Guatemala, for all occasions. The small ones, which only make big sounds, are called bombas, and are sold in every corner store for birthdays and such. But the gringos had fuegos, the fireworks more appropriate for the fourth, so most of the block was out to watch. These gigantic fireworks were being lit off in the center of a tiny street, with power lines, overhanging roofs and drying laundry all about. It was the absolute opposite of Estadoudinese firework safety. The grand finale was an entire case of bombas. Bombas come pinned together in a paper sleeve, so if you leave them attached each one lights the next. These bombas stretched all the way down the block, and when lit, the sounded like a 2,001 gun salute. After all the noise and smoke everyone stumbled home to sleep.