Lago de Atitlain. It was going well enough. Filming on a lancha boat while crossing the lake at sunrise seemed like an excellent beginning to an adventurous day. A day I now refer to as the “Day of accidents” or the “Day in Guate” with zero affection. Little did we know that swinging through Guatemala city in our hired van on our way north would result in sitting in traffic for close to four hours sandwiched between black exhaust spewing trucks and buses. The result of multiple serious traffic accidents we covered about three blocks in three of those hours. Have I mentioned that it’s hot in Central America?

Finally freeing ourselves from the agony of Guate, we pressed on northward towards the small village of Lanquin in the Northern Highlands. Chicken buses pass on blind curves all the time in Central America, giving a honk and going for it. We were just discussing the insanity of this when about fifty feet ahead we witnessed a near head on chicken bus collision which was terrifying to say the least. Both buses almost rolled over as they slammed on the breaks and cut the wheels hard to avoid each other. I truly understood why there are so many horrible vehicle accidents in C.A.. As darkness fell we realized how far behind schedule we were and were a bit perturbed to find ourselves once again in a major accident induced traffic jam around 10:30pm. A pickup truck had slammed into an illegal lumber truck and the trunks of the trees had sheared the top half of the cab and likely its occupants clean off. As we rolled by a small crowd gathered in the darkness and we soon pushed on down a dirt road into Lanquin.

Lanquin is a nice little village whose main claim to fame is it’s proximity to the Grutas de Lanquin caves and the garden of Eden known as Semuc Champey. We would spend four days here following Amy and meeting travelers and locals while Marisol spent some time salsa dancing in the nightclubs of Xela.

First up… Semuc Champey. It’s impossible to describe Semuc Champey really. About a dozen pristine turqoise pools conected by about fifty waterfalls stretching for several thousand feet in the midst of an awe inspiring jungle valley does little to convey the true beauty of this anomaly of nature. With our underwater camera in my back pack and trunks on, we began our day of leaping off waterfalls, swimming through lagoons, discovering hidden caves, climbing rope ladders and generally having a blast filming Amy having a blast. If only every day could be this fun! But we were having too much fun. While we were filming this day it was with the understanding that we’d be coming back to semuc Champey in a few days when Marisol got to town and we’d get better coverage then. That never materialized and the footage we got was essentially us practicing for the real shoot we believed was coming and is mostly unusable. This was one of very few things I would later regret but kind of a doozy.

The following day would see Amy going for a walk around the village itself and we would get a true taste of experiencing village life. After chatting with locals in the market, kicking a soccer ball with kids in the street and a fair amount of exploring, we walked throught the streets with Amy as she talked about her fondness of small town life and the value of experiencing it. It was a fantastic day of shooting that made up for missing out on Semuc Champey.

Throughout Guatemala we noticed a disturbing phenomena of the mass burning of the forest. Never was this more obvious than in the Northern Highlands. At night the hillsides were aglow with the orange light of the burning jungle and ash rained from the sky. Smoke filled the air and could be almost chokingly thick at times. Deciding to investigate this, we spoke to a local man who explained that a great drought had been plaguing the region for months (something we noticed heartily in Nicaragua) and that the burning of the forest was intended to encourage God to make it rain. Amy found this fascinating as well and the group of us decided to hop in the back of a pickup and ride into the hills to see what was going on. It was at this point that it became obvious how much taller Amy was than the general Guatemalan population! Trying to shoot her with locals in the back of the truck proved much more difficult than expected as the average Guatemalan is in the 4′6″-5′ range and Amy is knocking on 6 feet. Michael essentially had to lie in the back corner of the truck bed and shoot upward in order to frame all of there heads in the shot! The people definitely thought we were loco. The fires were everywhere and the people living in the hills seemed to be leading there lives as normal under a thick cloud of smoke. Exploring a hilltop cemetery we were mesmerized by the bright colorful tombs and the idyllic setting. Seeing a bunch of local kids jumping off a rope bridge into a river, Amy was convinced (by the kids) to join them in jumping in and eventually Valerie and myself as well. It was a great way to clean off after a few hours of riding in the pickup on dusty dirt roads.

Interviewing an interesting British traveler and filming local boys fishing in the river with machete, we wrapped up our time in Lanquin and followed Amy and Marisol north in a packed van towards Tikal. A kindly scorpion gave me a going away present on my foot that would stay with me our remaining time and Allen got over a terrible case of the “turistas” that had leashed him to the immediate bano vicinity for a few days. As we wound down dusty roads through small towns, burning fields and walls of smoke, I began thinking about the great distances we’d covered so far and the amazing people and communities we’d gotten to know along the way. We had just a few days left before the journey home and I felt like we were just truly getting into the groove. Our next stop would be the small lake island of Flores about an hours drive from the great Mayan temples of Tikal.

Flores has come along ways in recent years, replacing it’s garbage strewn shoreline with a clean new dirt road lined with stilted on-the-water restaurants and bars. Following the girls through the cobblestone streets upon arrival, they searched for an affordable hostel while I started to grow painfully ill. It was at this point that I made the decision to spend a few extra dollars to get a place with a private bathroom and air conditioning since it looked like I’d be out of commission for a while. The girls had planned on going to Tikal at 3am to watch the sunrise over the jungle from the top of Pyramid Four so when I awoke at 2 to get ready and found myself drenched with sweat and in a world of hurt I had to send the crew along without me with a scribbled shot list and my blessing. As expected they nailed it. There are few things more cinematic in this world than the sound of howler monkeys in the distance as the sun rises over massive misty jungle engulfed ancient pyramids. Quite a grand finally with the girls indeed.

Leaving Flores after a few days of retching, we said goodbye to the girls and headed south for a well known travelers resting stop, Finca Ixobel. Loaded with history, the small farm off of the old road to Poptun is most know for the 1990 murder of it’s founder that went uninvestigated and led to the U.S. suspension of aid to Nicaragua. Two things that became painfully obvious upon our arrival were that there where virtually no travelers there and the volunteer travelers working there had only been in town a day or two. A third was discovered later and was equally upsetting. The farm is a magnet for insects we realized as demonstrated by the hazy swarm of mosquitoes in our room, a surprise killer ant attack after dinner and a two minute visit to the internet shack that left me running out covered in 50 plus insects of various size, stripping down to my skivvies and praying for rain.

Back to Flores.

In the morning Marisol would be flying home out of Guatemala city so to get down there in time we hopped on a puddle jumper and flew down to Guate. Filming in the airport went well except that it was Valerie’s turn to get very sick and she spent the rest of the day with an air sickness bag in hand. A quick flight to San Salvador, a mad dash through the airport and we were on our final flight home.

As we said goodbye after our long journey together I knew we had shared something very special. The filming was amazing but the friendships formed and the adventures experienced will last us all a lifetime. That and the eight hundred pictures we took!