Livingston: Nothing but Peace and Good Vibes... Or Else!

Grrr... I am sooo frustrated right now!  I'm having an awesome trip in general.  Don't get me wrong.  It's just Livingston was amazing and I really REALLY wanted to spend another day there.  But I thought... No.  I should go to Rio Dulce Town/Fronteras and spend the night there and then catch a bus to Flores tomorrow morning.  Rio Dulce could be cool...  This town effing blows!  AND there are busses to Flores twice an hour ALL DAY.  So I could have easily stayed in Livingston another night, taken the beautiful lancha ride to Fronteras, and gotten a bus to Flores tomorrow.  Instead, I'm gunna chill in this overpriced internet cafe for a minute (they charge 10Q an hour AND they only have Internet Explorer AND it's slow!), grab some lunch, and peace the eff out.  I'll be in Flores a day ahead of schedule.  >:-(

But anyhow... let me tell you about my awesome adventures!

So I have a pretty epic head cold right now, but I'm not going to let it ruin my adventuring.  I left at 5:30AM on Wednesday, and got on a super crowded, super uncomfy bus to Guatemala City.  It was pretty awful.  But then once I got to Guate, I got to ride on the TransMetro, which is their T.  They just don't call it the T cuz they're silly.  Then I got on a super comfy Litegua bus to Puerto Barrios.  The seats were comfortable, and there was almost enough room for my legs to fit, and we had bathroom/food stops and yay!  Then I got to Puerto Barrios, bought some memory for my camera, and found a hotel.

My Lonely Planet book says Puerto Barrios is sketchy, and tourists shouldn't really spend time there except passing through.  I think Puerto Barrios seems really chill.  It's much more pleasant than Fronteras.  Puerto Barrios is old United Fruit Company territory.  They set it up as a company town, so the streets are in a super functional grid with street signs and everything!  Right by the bus station, there's big stores and a market and fast food and stuff, but once you get a couple blocks away, it's just people's houses.  It seems like a real place, where people live. 

Once I settled into my hotel, I was starving!  I had only eaten a small chicken sammich and some ice cream.  So I found a comedor, and ate this:

I know, right?  The tortilla-plate-thing tasted like naan.  There was a hefty portion of carne asada AND a sausage.  Mmmmm!  And they were playing intense Christian music, which reminded me of something I've been meaning to comment on.  People here address God with the informal "tu."  It's God!  If you're gunna have respect for anybody...

So yeah.  Next morning got up early and took the 7:30 lancha to Livingston.  LIVINGSTON RULES!  I could easily spend a few weeks there.  Or a year.  It totally seems like a different country.  For one thing, there are no roads connecting Livingston to the rest of Guatemala.  Then there's the fact that the majority of Livingston's population are Garífuna.  Garífuna are black, Caribbean people, descended from indigenous Carib people and shipwrecked West African slaves.  According to my trusty Lonely Planet book, when the British finally established colonial control over the island of St. Vincent in 1796, they kicked out all of the surviving Garífuna inhabitants.  So now they mostly live on the Caribbean coasts of Belize, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua.  They have their own language, music, and rich culture.  And OMG good food!  I think most of the Garífuna in Livingston are trilingual.  They all speak Garífuna, Spanish, and English really well!  I'm impressed. 

Livingston is super chill.  Everyone is super friendly.  Everyone knows everyone.  I had lots of really cool conversations with random strangers.  I get the feeling, however, that everyone is also super badass.  Like if you try to mess up the laid back, awesome vibe of the place, you will meet with an unfortunate accident.  And by unfortunate accident, I mean you will be assassinated.  My first glimpse of this was in my guidebook.  It says, "The beachfront between Livingston and the Río Quehueche and Siete Altares had a bad reputation for some years, but the locals 'took care' of the troublemakers (we don't really want to know details)" (Lonely Planet Guatemala, 262).  Then I met a cool guy on the beach.  He invited me under his shelter when it started downpouring, and told me the story of the owner of my hotel.  I have no idea if it's a true story, but it seemed pretty Livingston to me.

So I stayed in Hotel African Place.  It is built to look like a series of Moroccan castles.  There's a "moat," which supposedly contains turtles.  It's pretty cool.  It's also in pretty icky shape, but the rooms are reasonably priced.  The not-super-friendly lady who worked there hand-washed my clothes for me for 20Q.  But anyways... the story... so my friend Tino or Dino or something like that told me that the owner of the hotel is an Israeli guy.  "He's from Israel, but he was living here, like a Garífuna... But he was violent!"  Apparently there was a dispute with some local guy over drugs, and the owner killed the guy's son or something.  So now he can't ever come back to Livingston "...because we'll kill him." 

The moral of the story:  When in Livingston, enjoy the good vibrations...and do NOT piss off the locals.

I ate Tapado for brunch.  You can't go to Livingston and not eat Tapado.  You just can't.  It's got coconut cream and curry and lots of spices and a fish and some shrimps and a crab and bananas and yumminess.  It looks like this:

It was a lot of work to eat though.  The fish and other critters were all in there whole.  Head, scales, bones, shells, leggies...everything.  Soooo yummy though.

Oh right... so I forgot the part where I woke up with one of my famous, puffy eyes.  Except this time, everything I try to do--steroid cream, eye drops, benadryl, ibuprofen, ice--just makes it angrier.  After lunch, I tried to go to the multicultural museum to learn about "the history and culture of the area, focusing on the ethnic diversity, with Garífuna, Q'eqchi', Hindu and ladino cultures represented" (262). The building was pretty abandoned.  I could see torn up walls inside and the outside smelled like pee.  A local later told me that the museum workers weren't getting paid, so they left.  Oops.  Then the benadryl hit me, and I had to take a nap. 

After my nap, I walked around.  My book recommends walking to the Siete Altares, "a series of freshwater falls and pools" (263).  It says it's worth it to do the long walk along the beach, to see the natural beauty and the Garífuna people.  I didn't go to the Siete Altares, but I did take a lovely walk along the beach. 

Then it started raining and I met T/Dino.  Then I went back into town and got me some braids from a woman named Jasmin.  It was supposedly her 30th birthday.  She's a cool character.  Then she braided a stoned, Belgian chick's hair, and the girl took off without paying.  I would not have the balls to rip off anyone from Livingston.  Good luck to her.  Jasmin and I ate tamales together.  It was good times.  Then we went to Rasta Mesa to see if there was a cooking class.  There wasn't.  It was super closed, but Jasmin introduced me to the owner guy and then ran off to buy some weed and never came back. 



Rasta Mesa is pretty awesome.  The owners are a couple.  He's from Livingston, but spent a big part of his life in Belize.  She's from Baltimore originally.  They've both travelled a lot, and they have 2 kids together, and they made the cultural center Rasta Mesa to educate the community.  They also have food.  Here's a video with some photos of them.  He makes music too...

She has a project and might be looking for English teachers soon.  ;-)

That's pretty much all I got for now.  Oh... coconut bread tastes like...bread.  In case you were wondering.  I bought a small bottle of Guifitti, the local liquor.  Haven't tried it yet though.  Will report back. 

I'm going to come back to Livingston some day.  I was gunna pop in to Belize or Honduras for a day, just to say I did, but then I decided I just need another trip. Next time...