Sunday, November 23, 1997
I think all three of us were ready to get out of Belize at this point. The sights were great and we met some good people, but speaking for myself I was pretty disgusted with the way some of the people treated travelers.
The border crossing was surprisingly fast and easy. The first thing one notices is that it is here that the nice paved road turns into a mud path.
The bus terminal at San Jose on the Guatemala side.
Instead of staying in Flores or Tikal, which most travelers do, we decided to stay in a tiny, electricity- free village right between them called El Ramante. It was just the right prescription. After dinner we wandered over to "Manuels"; a candle- powered hippie haven in a fantastic setting. We had a beer and listened to Manuels many stories.
The one thing Manuel told us that will always stay with me is the meaning of the word "gringo". He says gringos are the blinders that are put on either side of a horses face, so that they will keep a forward focus. White men, he says, often are so focused in one direction that they fail to see and understand the rest of the world around them. How true.
We walked back to the hotel in total darkness, listening to the loud music of the jungle.