January 30, 2004
Guatemala = Pretty
I had meant to put this one into my last post and it slipped my mind until a very random part on Master Ninja II (MST3K) brought it to my mind. Near the end of the fall semester of my senior year, my Bible teacher (the crazy presentations one, who, I just remembered, also had us write a paper on Mere Christianity that semester and mine ended up being almost 30 pages long . . . still have it) . . .
Okay, nevermind all that . . . I'm just starting a new paragraph, because that's just a nasty mess up there. So this Bible teacher organizes a little trip to a very special, very out of the way place that I had never been to before. It was kind of a spiritual retreat for whoever in the class wanted to go. I think there were 8-10 of us that went. Getting to this place required a bus ride (I think it was 6 hours, but it might have been . . . 10, I'm a little fuzzy on the details now for some reason), staying at a place he knew of for the night, and leaving in two Land Rovers before 6:00 the next morning for a 3 hour drive on the craziest-ever dirt roads through the mountains. The vistas on the way were like nothing I've seen elsewhere, almost impossible to describe. I remember looking out at one point, and spread out as far as I could see where dozens and dozens of rounded, tree-covered peaks, as close together as they could be without being the same mountain.
Well, we finally arrived at our destination and we spent the first hour or two off by ourselves with our Bibles. Oh, and we were fasting that day, by the way. It was an interesting time, but after that was over, it was time to really enjoy the location. I think the place is spelled Semuc Champey, but I really have no idea. In any case, it's pronounced Sah-MOOK Shahm-PAY. There are wild rushing rapids that come flying through the area, and precisely at this point they dive straight underground . . . the closest you can get is a cliff about fifteen feet directly over the point where the river roars into the solid rock and is rushed straight down under you. It then proceeds several hundred yards underground and comes out a bit more peacefully at a spot where you can overlook it from a height of about thirty feet. Now, as to what takes up the several hundred yards over the underground river . . . There's just no way to describe that, so I better just show you what I can. Check out these pictures.
And while I'm at it with all the picture craziness . . . that place that I said was my favorite place in the world in the last post: Picture, 'nother picture, more picture, picture again. None of these really do the place justice, but they're nice pictures. I wish I were there right now. There just isn't a better place to spend a few days with friends and family. Also, here's one of the many and varied views you'd get out your car window on the two-hour drive (on much nicer roads than the ones to Semuc) up there. This is either very near to, or at least looks like, the spot where we had Servant Days my senior year. Once again, lack of width and depth of picture fails to do the location justice, but you get the idea. This is the Volcan de Agua, which forms a prominent part of the skyline near my house (although it is about as far from us as it is from the camera in this picture). I believe my house is on the opposite side of the volcano from where this was taken. I once climbed it, an all-day affair, (got up at about 4:30 in the morning, got home after . . . 10:00 that night, I think), along with Andy, Joe, and Mr. Winger. The top isn't much to look at . . . at all. There's a big crater, radio towers all around, a long house-thing, and two goalposts inside. But it was a crazy hike, and there were crazy views from up there. It's called Agua (that's "water") because it's extinct and there used to be a lake inside of it. Now, I know someone will tell me if I get this wrong, but I believe that a hundred+ years ago, one side of the crater gave way and the lake came rushing down and engulfed what was then the capital . . . which is why it was moved. In any case, I know the lake broke out at one point and wasted some town. Here's another prominent piece of skyline, the Volcan de Fuego (that's "fire"). It's about 7 kilometers from my house, and it is way spectacular . . . especially when it goes off at night.
So, back to Semuc . . . We spent the day having a freaking awesome time in the midst of all of that. The teacher had brought along a good, long rope, because he had been there before. He had tied a couple of knots at the bottom to hold onto. One of the guys shimmied out onto a tree that was hanging a good 40+ feet out over the water and tied that sucker on, and we had an awesome rope swing and he had a scraped-up chest. At the end of the day, when we were hungry like nobody's business and ready to go home, we start gathering our things together. The teacher figures he'll just leave the rope there, since no one seems inclined to go up and get it (scrapes like that hurt). The guy who had originally tied it on said if he had a knife he'd climb up the rope and slice it at the top. Teacher throws him a measuring look, pops out a knife, and offers him Q100 if he can do it.
For some reason, no one else is interested in seeing this, but I'm not going to miss it, and neither is the teacher. We accompany him to the edge of the water, he dives in and swims to the rope, and starts to climb up. After two attempts at hauling himself more than halfway out of the water, he gives up on that. But for Q100, he'll just climb back out onto the branch, swing out onto the rope, and slice it. So he gets up there as planned, swings out onto the rope as planned, and reaches for the knife (which is between his teeth) as planned. Then, not as planned, he can't hold on with one hand. So he's dropping forty feet, and we see exactly what's happening and what's going to happen. I was worried he'd lose the knife, but when he climbed out of the water, finally, it was apparent that I needn't have worried. I'm surprised he didn't leave any teeth marks in it.
You see, because of the spinning of the rope while he held on, he fell in a circle around it, his leg wrapped around the rope just enough so that he couldn't get out or away from it. It wasn't burning or anything, but he was right slap up against it. Then he hit those two knots . . . or rather, they hit him . . . directly in the groin. Which is why I made mention of his "finally" getting out of the water. Long and short of it was, he limped for a while, talked really funny for awhile, and his jaw ached from the knife. I'd say he made out fairly well. In case you feel too sorry for him, I'll add this. Ten minutes into the trip back down through the mountains, the Land Rovers pulled over on a bridge over a calm spot of the river and the drivers told us we could jump if we wanted. This was great fun (a thirty-foot jump, I believe, into a calm, cool river). I went about three times, and I know Ryan (that was his name) went at least twice.
At this point, however, it is late and I am tired, and that's all I've got for the time being, so I shall be off to sleep. Be sure and look at those pictures, because they are cool!
Posted by Jared at January 30, 2004 10:17 AM | TrackBack