Photos from the mangrove. I can't figure out how to arrange the photos as I want them on Blogger, so pretend that you read before looking!
The black lumpy thing in the branches is a termite nest. The last photo is of the road we walked to get to the boat launch. I think you can figure out which one is the boat launch.

Whewww! Last week I got sick on Rico's last day here. I thought maybe it was dengue or malaria, what with our trip to Monterrico where even the 98% deet (yes, really, 98%!!!!) did not stop the little a-holes from chopping away on my delicate self. But fortunately, I was improved enough to allow Richard to slip out the door at 4 AM, Sunday morning. I was, not, however, up to writing, and then the school week started up (I am studying/in class for 4 hours in the morning (I have read an ENTIRE novel in Spanish--Once Minutos by Paulo Cuelho--and am very impressed with myself) and then I go out to Ciudad Vieja for 4 hours of little kids in the afternoon), so no writing for me. But now I have a bit of free time, and thus here are a few thoughts and images:

Monterrico is a black sand beach on the Pacific coast of Guatemala. It is an easy 15-20 degrees F hotter there than here in Antigua, and I was happy to take my sun-loving, surfer-wanna-be husband to a place that did not have the exact same crappy weather as Seattle. As I mentioned last time, we couldn't go in the water because of the undertow, so we will definitely not be retiring in a place that entices only to tease. Still, the heat was a good change from the 65-70F with rain in both Antigua and Seattle, and the pool at our hotel is advertized as the best in Monterrico. It certainly worked for us.

Besides the sun, walks on hot black sand, and the great pool, the other really cool thing to do in Monterrico is to get up very early and take a guided tour in a pole-powered boat through the mangroves. At first R. did not want to go; he found the part about 5:15 AM off-putting. But I won (it happens a lot:)), and so off we went. Our guide met us in the still dark outside the hotel gate and walked us through the town where the street is lined with little shops and restaurants, into the back roads that are mostly dirt and mud, and finally to a launch where a handful of boats was lined up waiting to slip off into the river. Describing a mangrove forest is challenging, so I will show probably more than tell (see pictures above), but one thing pictures can't really convey is peace and tranquility. Gliding through the water with only the power of strong arms as they pull, push and lift a long wooden pole to send us forward is a sensation that is a bit foreign for those of us who rely on cars, ferries and buses to get places. Even cycling is not the same because the mangrove itself is so very silent.

The mangrove in Monterrico is an internationally protected area. Yet ecotourism is a lucrative business all over the world, and even though Monterrico (as is true in a lot of Guatemala outside of Antigua) hasn't really caught on to the very polished and highly organized methods of selling experiences as though they were tangible products, there are many people who have lived their lives on the banks of the swamp who now rely on tourist dollars from the early morning tours to pay for the cable satellites that sit in the yards of their very humble homes. We shared our school here in Antigua with a woman working on her Anthropology doctorate studying the effects of ecotourism on indigenous populations; it is not such a pretty picture, as people give up what is natural and sustainable in order to make money--money that is never quite enough to truly provide adequate substitutes for what is naturally available.

And of course, the effects of the much-maligned human foot print have not been so great in many places that are natural, delicate wonders. While the presence of very small, human-powered boats does not seem to yet be leaving such a huge mess in the mangrove, soon someone will figure out a way to multiply access, and what will result is anyone's guess. So I am conflicted: I am so very glad to have seen the mangrove and so very aware that I bought an experience that maybe participated in a very small way in the demise of an essential ecosystem. Richard's observation was that the mangrove is a birth center. Fish of all kinds swim there and many, many kinds of birds and aquatic life rely on the mangrove to live. In addition, the two types of mangroves whose roots start in upper branches and sink into the shallow mud provide stuff that an ecologist/biologist could better explain than I, stuff that makes a difference well beyond the banks of the swamp.

But man, it was so cool!