It's late. It's nearly eleven. Which is pretty unbelievable for this old lady (Pancho would be proud of me). Cathy and John are already asleep, but the rest of Antigua seems to be wide awake, setting off bombs to celebrate Mother's Day.
Which is how you celebrate all the very special days in Guatemala. And even the moderately special days. And even the days just a bit out of the ordinary.
You set off a shit ton of fireworks.
Dear Guatemala,
I understand you like bombs and fireworks. That you're kind of obsessed with them (let's be honest here). This is all well and good and I support your decision to like bombs and fireworks. However, if you could maybe consider a slow transition towards celebrating special days with free cups of coffee to everyone you've kept awake all night with your bombs and fireworks, that would be grand.
Sincerely,
~that one chica who was kept up all night
Our first full day in Antigua started out innocently enough. Cathy prepared a gorgeous breakfast of avocado on toast, eggs, and blackberries mixed with yogurt, and we ate on the terrace while catching glimpses of the Volcan de Agua peeking out from behind a fortress of clouds.
What a nice place to be eating avocado on toast.
My friends had decided they'd like to spend the day exploring the city and visiting museums, so I'd spent a bit of time the night before on google maps and TripAdvisor, looking up some places they might enjoy.
My first day being a tour guide for my friends. Oof. Hope I do okay.
I... uh... did not do okay. After successfully taking John to the bank to withdraw some money, I led us to what I assumed would be our first museum. I hadn't read any reviews on TripAdvisor about this place, but it was directly across the street from my favorite cafe, so I'd seen it almost every day.
"Is the museum open?" I asked the women in the museum's gift shop.
"We're not a museum," they replied in Spanish, obviously quite embarrassed on my behalf. "We're just a tienda."
"Oh, uh. Thanks," I spun on my heel and stepped out of the tienda. The tienda called, "De Museo."
"When does it open?" Cathy asked patiently.
"Um. Yeah. It's not actually a museum. But there's another one just two blocks this way! So really, we haven't lost much time," I did my best to salvage the rapidly deteriorating situation.
After walking two blocks towards the next museum (a museum highly rated on TripAdvisor), I began to worry.
Where is it? Really, Guatemala? REALLY? I understand that you're usually at least an hour late, but to not be there at ALL? That's, uh, definitely pushing the envelope. Even for you.
I popped into the hotel where googlemaps was telling me the Museum ought to be, and asked the receptionist what Guatemala had done with its museums.
"It's not here anymore," she said sympathetically. "But there's another really nice museum here," she marked an X on a city map for me. "You should take your friends to this museum."
"Okay, thanks," I clutched the map leading me to this new museum and shamefully walked out to where my friends were sitting forbearingly.
"This museum is... gone. But the lady in reception gave me a map to another museum that's not so far away," I tried to sound optimistic.
"That's okay," Cathy replied affably. As Cathy does. "But I'll need a break soon."
On route to our third attempted museum, we ran into a convent. Where the fellow taking tickets was so bored with not making money that he gave us all student discounts so we wouldn't wander off.
We stopped at a cafe across from the Santa Clara Convent, giving us all a quick break from strolling around Antigua's cobbled streets. And after ordering my latte, I bashfully asked the barista to look at the map and confirm to me that the museum I was heading to was, you know, actually there.
"Yes, yes," the barista nodded. "It's there."
"Right here," I pointed to the X on the map.
"Right there, yes," he seemed puzzled by my persistence.
Full of hope, I continued the journey to our third attempted museum.
Which was not there. Definitively absent. Positively missing in action.
"Is there a museum here?" I asked at the reception of a ridiculously fancy hotel.
"There was, but it moved to a nearby village two months ago."
So. Much. Failing. The only successful thing I've done all day as a tour guide was help John find the bank.
Blurgh.
We finally gave up our museum hunt, ate a lunch of pepian (traditional Guatemalan stew), and rested our feet in a courtyard cafe with a fountain and opera music.
We stopped at a couple more churches before finally heading back to the Airb&b for an afternoon nap.
And on the way home, Cathy stumbled into a museum. And when I looked at google maps on my phone, I was told that we were in an empty zone between a car rental company and an Italian restaurant.
Fucking Guatemala.
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