Lake Atitlán – Day 3: The Eagle’s Nest
LAKE ATITLÁN
Day 3: The Eagle's Nest
October 14, 2022
I’d be using the little time I had left in Lake Atitlán to do exactly what it’s known for – town hopping! With every town being a short ferry ride away, I could make the most of my time by visiting a few of them in one day. The ferry rides over the lake are sure to leave anyone smiling and feeling grateful, with a gorgeous view of the lake accompanying them throughout.
San Marcos La Laguna
First off would be the town of San Marcos La Laguna – also known as the spiritual centre of Lake Atitlán – a hippie heaven through and through, with thousands of tourists flocking to the town in search of their inner self or whatever.
This town’s all about the most Instagrammable stuff one can think of, probably overthrowing LA as the world’s capital of White Gurls. I’ve come to think of San Marcos as a sort of giant spa retreat destination where anyone can do anything from yoga and meditation to reiki and massages, with vegan meals for when the lowly, carnal afflictions manifest themselves.
I don’t mean to sound too toxic when describing this lifestyle – it’s just that I have this impression that a lot of these people embrace such a life only because it gets them more followers on social media and helps them maintain their aura of self-righteousness and superiority. Kinda like the leading ladies of You – where on the outside they have this perfect, holistically complete life, but then they go back home to their creeping self-doubts (and creepy, psycho boyfriend). Beats me – I’m just a dirty, unwashed, unshaven backpacker who gives in to his hedonistic needs and feels happy and connected on most days.
Here in San Marcos, I took some time to wander around the town. From the pier runs the touristy area, where tight passageways flanked by stone walls decorated with street art are cluttered with souvenir shops and stalls, wellness centres, and healthy food eateries.
My Journey to Nirvana
Once out of the labyrinth, I made my way around the rural area where the locals live, and from thereon I’d be embarking on my very own journey to nirvana and enlightenment and bla bla bla.
Located at the top of the hill on the cliffside, surrounded by trees on all sides, was the solitary Eagle’s Nest – “an awe-inspiring ecological resort and world-class event venue for the transformational growth of adventure travellers, artists, and digital nomads,” to quote them. I don’t know about you, but usually these things make me roll my eyes in overwhelming scepticism. But apparently, yoga at this place is one of the “must-do” things here in San Marcos and I’d be damned if I let it slip past me. If there’s one thing I suffer from, it’s FOMO (apart from acid reflux), so I kept my mind open to new experiences. Especially since I had never done yoga before.
So anyway, here I was, with my mind all opened up, ready to embark on this journey of transformational growth. Only it didn’t feel like that on my way there. To get to the damned place, one has to climb this insanely steep, cobblestoned, and slippery hill under the sweltering heat of the unbearably mean old sun. “How’s this supposed to make me feel calm and connected?!” I cursed along the way, regretting my decision as I sweated half my body’s water volume. Five minutes from the top, I found myself at a crossroads and, obviously, I chose the road that took me down the hill again – at which point I just gave up and got a tuk-tuk back to the top.
Finally at this godforsaken place, I was told that the next beginner class would be in a couple of hours. Whilst I’d usually come up with a couple of things to kill time, I just decided to stay there and chill, in preparation for the transformational process that was to come. The place is actually really cool – a wooden lodge decorated with all kinds of paintings, a terrace with a full view of the lake underneath, differently coloured ribbons and plants hanging from the ceiling, a tiny stage with all kinds of instruments on the side, and in front of it, and a chill-out area with bean bags and a low-lying table.
There, I had an avocado French toast in an effort to blend in with the “in” crowd. After this, I sat down on a cushion facing the lake, put on some meditation music, and lay there for an hour or so. This wasn’t something new to me, save for the great view in front of my eyes.
Enter: Marius the Yogi
Then Mirena came to get us – a young Israeli lady named after a contraceptive device – who’d be our yoga instructor for the class. She spoke in a whisper, seemingly afraid that any sound above a chirp would murder all the fairies in the world.
After we prepared our yoga mats and blocks, always facing the lake, we did a round of introductions. I admitted it was my first time doing yoga and lied about how excited I’d been for this. She exalted at this, clearly unable to perceive my negative chakras or whatever. Then it was a bunch of other girls and a guy who was on this yoga retreat all over Central and South America. That actually sounded quite cool.
And with that, we started. All sat down, she told us to pick a point right in front of us and focus on it whilst taking deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Iiiin. Oooout. We did this for a couple of minutes and then went on to try different positions and breathing techniques. I found myself surprised that I could actually keep up with them and was flexible enough to do all the poses. Despite it being a beginner class, I still had my doubts. But I was managing – and it actually felt good. Tiring, sure, but the stretching was much needed. And lemme just say, seeing the yoga retreat guy blundering a couple of steps here and there did make me feel a bit superior – not gonna lie.
After an hour and a half of weird body contortions, we went back to a sitting position. She told us to think about our spiritual aim for the upcoming year and focus hard on it – kind of a big goal to pin on one beginner yoga class, but I was keeping an open mind. I picked “gratitude”. Throughout my journey thus far, the purest emotion I could feel was that. Not a day had gone by where I didn’t feel such an intense need to thank the heavens for all that I had been experiencing, and I wanted this to go on. To be grateful every single day. And lemme yell ya, after that yoga class, I certainly did feel grateful.
So, my opinion about yoga? It felt good doing the motions. It felt really good after the session. And it did make me feel connected. Which means… I absolutely loved it and I’d totally be on board for more classes. Maybe those White Gurls do know what they’re talking about, after all.
San Juan La Laguna
All relaxed and zen, I made my way back to the pier and waited for the next ferry to San Juan La Laguna. If San Marcos is known for its spirituality, San Juan’s known for all its colours and art shops. A short and pleasant boat ride later, and there I was.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out something’s different in San Juan. It does, however, take a while for it to sink in. It’s the astounding lack of tourists – and man, did I appreciate that. Turns out, there’s a local law that prevents foreigners from owning land in the town, with the Tz’utujil being free to live there in peace. If there’s anything else that’s not too difficult to notice either, it’s all the colours that adorn the town. But it’s not just the buildings here – it’s also the pavements that have all kinds of patterns, from mosaics to actual paintings, and all kinds of stuff hanging down from telephone lines such as hats and tassels. Add to that the tons of painted canvases on the outside of hundreds of art shops and you get the most vivid of the towns surrounding the lake. Très chic.
I visited a couple of shops just to admire the textiles and paintings, and then finally sat down at a restaurant called Alma de Colores to have some well-deserved lunch.
The second my butt touched the seat, the tiniest, most fragile-looking kitten jumped on my lap – a stray the restaurant owner had taken in and called Mibo. As wholesome as that might be, it’s not just stray cats they take care of. On the front page of the menu was the mission statement of the restaurant – to empower and give employment to disabled people. Over 26 people were employed in one of five sectors which best suit their skill set – crafts, sewing, baking, organic gardening, and dining. From the restaurant’s income, the employees would also have multiple benefits, especially with regard to transport, health, and education.
I’m not usually in the habit of writing about businesses, but if there’s one to write about, it’s definitely this one! Not to mention that the seafood pasta I had there was simply divine.
In an effort to shake off my food coma and burn some calories, I decided to add yet another thing to my itinerary: the Mirador Kiaq’Aiswaan. Albeit a short hike, the steep incline of the hill left me regretting taking up the challenge on a super full stomach. It must have taken me twice the amount of time it would take an average person to get to the top, but in the end, I can say I made it – and that it was more than worth the trouble.
At the summit of the hill is a circular, wooden gazebo with a cross and a statue of the Virgin Mary at its centre. The surrounding wooden platform is painted all over, with various indigenous scenes such as women with baskets of corn on their heads and farmers collecting crops, covering the entire structure. The only thing that might steal one’s attention from the beautiful masterpiece is a bigger one – a full view of the azure Lake Atitlán with the imposing volcanoes towering behind it.
Going Back to my Roots
Whilst strolling along, I noticed something else that caught my attention. It was a banner with the words “Medicinal Plant Tours” scribbled all over. I simply had to go in – mostly cause by that point, anything that had something to do with medicine would almost have me in tears.
I knew I’d miss my job, but never this much. At that point, I was actually considering doing some medical voluntary work – not for the philanthropic aspect so much as to get my hands dirty again. My ex-boss talked me out of it, saying I have at least forty years of work ahead of me, and probably no other opportunity to tour the world ever again, so I should just focus on travelling and making the most of it while I still could. While I begrudgingly agreed, I still tried to stay in touch with that part of me as much as possible – mostly by nagging my colleagues to tell me all about their interesting cases, but also by learning about indigenous and local practices and the healthcare infrastructure, and by giving solicited and unsolicited medical advice to both friends and strangers I met along the way.
So, anyways… Yes, this tour. Well, this would actually be something educational and pertinent to my job – perhaps I could use some of this newfound knowledge in practice once I’d resume my work! The tour was short and sweet, run by a group of indigenous female healers known as the Q’oomanel Association, who are considered the doctors of the town – with herbal medicine being their preferred tool. Most herbs, one of the ladies told me, are grown in a tiny garden which they showed me. Here, she said, they grow around fifteen varieties of medicinal plants, which can be either boiled, smoked, snorted, applied to the skin, eaten raw, or, sometimes, inserted into body orifices.
She then handed me a few leaves of each plant and told me all their uses, such as oregano for cough and bronchitis (works as an expectorant), rosemary as an anti-inflammatory and antibacterial agent (with rosmarinic acid and carnosic acid being the active agents), eucalyptus as an antioxidant (containing lots of flavonoids), and chamomile used to treat gastrointestinal upset (especially in combination with other herbs). The lady added that out of the same herbs, they produce a variety of products such as shampoos, ointments, and soaps too. It felt so good talking about medicine again, albeit in its most basic and crudest forms.
Completely drained by all my adventures, I took a tuk-tuk (see what I did there?) back to San Pedro, unable to exert myself any further. All in all, I can say I did make good use of my time in Lake Atitlán, but in hindsight, I can say that my one and only regret (thus far, at least) is that I didn’t spend a couple more days there. It’s not just the wanting to see more – it’s the wanting to be next to the lake for a longer time. There’s just something so special about Atitlán that I can’t quite put into words!
Stay wild,
Marius
Post-Scriptum
That one yoga class I had done at Eagle’s Nest was like a gateway drug. Now, a few years down the line, I simply love yoga and I do as much as I can, whenever I can. So yeah, thanks Mirena!