This is the final part of a true story written by Marina Villatoro who writes the travel blog Travel Experta about everything you need to know about Central America. Catch up with Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, and Part 10 in case you missed them. I’d like to thank Marina very much for sharing her story here, it’s been something great to look forward to each Friday.

I’ve had a few run-ins with recluses before. Low-budget hotels are inviting for all sorts. The gait and mannerisms for this special group doesn’t vary much from one to the other: mysteriously, they always have funds, although I can’t imagine any of them keeping a job. They indulge in long showers once a month; treat themselves to mammoth-nutritious meals; and stock up on provisions before they recoil back into their shells.  However, on a special night, they expand their world-of-one and let their fellow man inside.  Never straying from their comfort zone, they indulge us with stories of wild adventures: train hopping, feral hitchhikes, animal attacks, people attacks, or other heroisms. But the minute a personal or sensitive question is hurled in their direction they become defensive, edgy, and so riled up that you wish they would return to their cave.

I knew we have outstayed our welcome.

Without further questions I quickly rummaged around in the trunk.  To my shock, the extra clothes she referred to the other day were not at all what I expected. I was prepared to leave her home in wear-me-downs: outstretched, torn, or stained shirts and pants. Instead, my fingers flipped through brand-new designer garments: Donna Karan silk tops, T-shirts and underwear; Calvin Klein casual pants, skirts and matching blouses; Betsy Johnson summer dresses (my favorite).  Like a deliriously hungry vulture, I attacked the trunk.  This was one of those moments when you forgo the unexplained and accept things for what they were: A first-class (free) shopping spree in an Indian village of Guatemala.

Responding to my excitement, she seemed to relax once again.

“Thank you so much! Are you sure I can have these, they’re so new and expensive,” I bit my lip, hoping she wouldn’t change her mind.

She laughed, “They’re all yours.  They’re too small for me. I want you to have them.”

“How can I repay you?” I pleaded.  “It’s not only the clothes I’m referring to.  I’ve been feeling disheartened, bitter, reevaluating my faith in humankind.  But thanks to you I’ve restored some of my hatred. I want to show you my gratitude.”

She took my hand in hers, looked directly into my eyes and said, “There are two ways you can thank me.  One: don’t tell any one who I am and where I live.  Two:  next time you meet someone who’s in trouble or down on their luck, don’t turn your back on them.”  With that she hugged us and led us out.

Susanna’s kindness was contagious.  Janka volunteered to pay for both of our fares back to Pana, where I received the money sent to me from my parents, hugged Janka goodbye, and took a bus to Guatemala City.

Susanna reminded me of the genuine goodness that we all have.  Mine was lost long before I was robbed.  As the days and months pass I allowed a little of my compassion to surface and reveal itself.  I stopped filtering the world through tainted glasses and appreciated all the little miracles I would’ve normally taken for granted.

Last I heard Susanna had to move back to her native land to care for her sick father. I didn’t break my promise and tell you what her real name is or where she lived.  But before she left, she wrote me that the ‘Chico-problem’ was resolved. No one has the full story, although, the most popular rumor circulating was: he was stabbed in the chest by a non-cooperating, fed-up victim.  But we will never know the truth, and it’s not important. I’m glad to know that the village did not lay down to his antics and managed to fight back.

[photos by: federicogori, Galia & Yoav, damaradeaella]

Bio

Marina has been living in Central America for over 7 years and her site Travel Experta is all about traveling in Central America. Marina loves to help people plan the perfect vacation to this amazing part of the world! You can sign up for her RSS feed and join the fun on her Facebook fan page and follow her on Twitter at @MarinaVillatoro.

This is a guest post by Kim Kinrade, a novel writer with four publications to his credit. He also writes the blog Travel To Nova Scotia and enjoys showing visitors around Nova Scotia. When not on the road he enjoys renovating his Victorian farmhouse.

The onslaught of à la carte fees by the airlines is another in a growing number of reasons of why the airline industry needs to be run like a public utility. Air travel, like the failed Wall Street and the European banking communities, is too important to be run by CEO’s and their minions. As a result we have a $439USD advertised flight that, with added fees, ends up being almost $700. In fact, two weeks ago, BusinessWeek featured a cover story entitled: “Airline Fees are Big Money; a Whopping 345% Jump.”

This week, with the three biggest American holidays just around the corner, the largest airlines in the U.S. – United, Delta and American – announced they are adding a $10 “Holiday Fee.”  This means that from the last week in November until the week after New Year’s they can gouge and extra $10. Now this may not seem like a lot but let’s take stock of what is happening. You not only get the thrill of long line-ups and flight delays you have the opportunity of paying for the privilege. Here are some more fees:

1. Baggage Fees

There has always been an overweight charge for luggage on most airlines but now they are getting creative. For example, on American Airlines, passengers flying within the U.S. pay $20 USD for their first checked bag and $30 for the next one.

2. Meals

Airline food was never great but it wasn’t bad either. You could always be assured that a morning flight would get you coffee and an omelet. Now, if you’re running late you don’t have time to stand in a lie-up at an overpriced, airport, fast-food place. In fact, selling meals becoming a shameless money-maker. Of course Goldfish are still free on most airlines.

3. Counter Services

Airline managers and employees don’t want to meet you. In fact, I don’t think they like people. So, many carriers are going to be adding surcharges for the privilege of seeing you face-to-face but electronic ticketing will be “free.”

4. Movies

Another bit of fun used to be the in-flight movie. The sound was bad and you either saw the movie from a distance or, if it was beside you, you had to crane your neck to see the monitor. Now, they have LCD screens directly in front of you and charge video prices plus the cost of the headphones to watch them. If you can read lips the movies on most airlines are still free – but not for long.

5. Drinks

I don’t drink alcoholic beverages on airliners anymore. This is because I’m older and don’t like to spend the first two days of my holiday getting over jet lag. Actually, I stopped around the time when some airlines (like Air New Zealand) were still handing out free beer. Now if I wanted a glass of wine it would be at well-above restaurant prices. (I believe coffee and water are still “free.”) They say it helps reduce “drunkenness” however some passengers will always find the coin to get drunk and be obnoxious.

6. Seat Selection

This is a real kicker! No more first-come-first-served. You pay between $6 and $20USD for the seats with extra legroom or, for the nervous types, beside an exit.

7. Pillows and Blankets

I never use pillows or blankets on a plane. My coat is good enough. For those who still like the feel of course, artificial weave next to their skin can count on $5.

8. Wi-Fi

Satellite time is expensive. So, charging for Wi-Fi should make sense, right? However, the airline is already paying for it for their own purposes. Now the passengers pay for services the airlines already have to buy.

American air carriers, like other commercial interests, have always been engaged in a “winner take all” scenario. The way they seem to gobble each other up in hostile take-overs reminds me of a small python swallowing a boar. This is how they first got into trouble. So they can use 9-11 or big gas prices as excuses for their gluttony but the spike in fuel and the shadow of 9-11 only lasted a year each. For the rest of those tens years they made money. And now with sky-shopping – a service of online shopping on onboard – passengers buy everything from duty-free liquor to T-shirts at boutique prices.

In other words every seat is a profit center – and still the fees go on.

[photo by: Muffet, en_see89, r5d4]

This is part of a true story written by Marina Villatoro who writes the travel blog Travel Experta about everything you need to know about Central America. Every Friday over the next two months I’ll be posting another chapter of this adventure. Catch up with Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, and Part 11 in case you missed them.

We humans are social creatures, no matter how hard we fight it. The need to communicate and share experiences or acquired knowledge is innate. It’s our instinct. Recluse, hermit or loner, whatever her preference, she was the perfect product of seclusion. Within thirty minutes of our arrival we had the wherewithal.

“I run a volunteer program. Our mission: To help indigenous women become self-sufficient. Together we sew traditional pants, shirts, skirts and bags. Then I teach them how to sell it at the local markets. The purpose of this program is for them to take control of their lives and not depend on their husbands. It helps build their confidence,” she proudly stated, “But it is an extremely difficult task. By sixteen-years-old they have their first child and continue having babies until their bodies can’t handle it anymore. Their culture teaches them that from day-one their job is: giving birth, serving and obeying their husbands. So my work is incomprehensible to some of them and most don’t accept it. The ones I’ve had the most success with are widows and single mothers. To my advantage, the community is tight. The women can’t ignore the benefits and are slowly opening their eyes. It will take years for them to fully evolve and become independent, if at all, but in the meantime it’s what keeps me going.”

I Know Something

She uncrossed her legs, covered them with her robe and leaned towards us, secretly. I thought she was going to tell us she was a CIA agent researching the next nuclear testing ground, instead she whispered, “We all know who robbed you. The whole village is well aware of what’s happening. But no one will do anything about it,” she confided, “Why? Because for the past two years he’s been robbing the villagers, bribing the cops and threatening anyone who stands in his way. So tell me… what can the people do?

“This community is no stranger to poverty,” she continued, “They’ve lived without roofs over their heads, food or medical help. Education isn’t an option for them. Not because of its scarcity, but because they have to start working once they turn ten years old to help support their large families. It’s a vicious cycle.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, pensively.
“Their goals become warped. Little boys look up at Chico as a success story. They don’t have any other role models. They aspire to follow in his footsteps. The crook is revered!”

“But something must be done. Isn’t anyone doing anything to stop it?” I demanded. Was this how the mafia began? The bad seeds taking over the gardens, one by one, until all of the flowers were infected.

“He is so feared, and he knows it, and in turn it fuels his ego. He is a monster with no regard for human emotions or compassion. The only way to end this is to lynch him!” She announced this as though she just thought of this brilliant idea and was ready to strike. I think I’ll sit this one out.

“How awful! How can you live like this? Aren’t you scared of him? I mean, you live here all by yourself and it doesn’t seem to be very secure. Plus, there’s no one for miles around you. What do you do to protect yourself?” Janka protested.

“I was robbed three times. All non-violent, thank god. He usually works when there’s no one at home. By now I’ve learned my lesson. I don’t keep anything of value in the house… Don’t get me wrong. I’m still nervous, at times. But this is my home, after ten years, I am known and respected for my work. Furthermore, I help Chico’s mom and two sisters. Their father died years ago, when he was about nine. His mother raised three kids on her own. Back then it was unheard of for a woman to work. So can you imagine the poor woman’s struggle? But ever since I started working with them six years ago, they are doing great. I guess, out of familial loyalty he leaves me alone, and so does his gang…” she shrugged. “Would you like to try on some clothes?”

Not Your Typical Wardrobe

“Huh?” I snapped out of my daze.

“Are you ready to see some clothes?” she smiled kindly.

“Sure,” I uttered, a bit surprised how quickly one could change subjects.

“My closet is upstairs. Please don’t mind the mess, I was busy last night and didn’t have a chance to tidy up.”

Was she referring to the crumb on the kitchen table or the coffee bean I dropped on the counter? The house was spotless. It reminded me of model homes real estate agents use to advertise as ‘The-house-of-your-dreams’: sterile, unused, furnished and ready for immediate occupancy.

We followed her past the remaining four rooms on the first floor. The living room: decorated in a Victorian style, with purple couches, a love seat and cast-iron candlestick holders in every part of the room, including one on top of the fireplace. The office: pastel purple walls, white desk with nothing on it and a white swivel chair. Library: deep purple wallpaper, a huge yellow throw rug, and bookshelves stacked to the ceiling. The fourth room: stark, purple.

What was with the purple?

A lilac-colored wrought-iron spiral staircase deposited us onto waxed hardwood floors sporting four closed doors and direct sunlight from the solar-paneled roof. The first three doors, she briskly mentioned as we walked past, belonged to a guest bedroom, guest bathroom and her bedroom, with a bathroom inside. She turned a copper knob of the fourth door and opened it inward—The Closet.

This was no ordinary closet! It was more like a miniature department store specializing in theatrical costumes with suits of armor looming imposingly in the doorway, Victorian and medieval wedding gowns, veils and shawls hanging regally from medal racks, Venetian masquerade costumes, feathered masks and wigs splayed out by the wall, elegant business suits, tuxedos and men’s sport wear hanging opposite to the first clothes rack, and a myriad of other unnecessary garments used for Broadway-Style productions strewn about on the floor. There was more! Three wooden trunks were opened with tiny benches for deciding what to wear.

“What in the world is all of this?” I blurted out. No wonder she wasn’t being robbed. The guy wouldn’t have any clue what to do with this stuff.

“I like clothes. I buy and sell costumes,” she replied uncomfortable with my reaction.

“To whom? Is there a demand for this?” I raised my hands, bewildered. This was one weird lady.

“There’s a small theater group in Panajachel. They put on different productions throughout the year and buy some articles from me now and then. Others I keep for myself.”

I noticed little beads of sweat emerging on top of her brow and in the depths of her cleavage.

“Do you wear them? What do you do with them?” Words rolled off my tongue. I simply couldn’t make sense of it all.

“I don’t wear them, I enjoy them…but, enough about that! In the trunk by the window are regular clothes that don’t fit me. I think they’re your size. Give them a try.” She pointed, her eyes nervously darting from me to Janka to the trunk and back to me. Her cheeks turned the color of her robe. She was deteriorating.

Wait till you find out what’s in the trunk…

[photos by: mnadi, andi, tom.snaps, JoelZimmer]

Bio

Marina has been living in Central America for over 7 years and her site Travel Experta is all about traveling in Central America. Marina loves to help people plan the perfect vacation to this amazing part of the world! You can sign up for her RSS feed and join the fun on her facebook fan page and follow her on Twitter at @MarinaVillatoro.