We spent about ten days on Lake Atitlan, visited many of the villages, did some hiking, swam in the lake, ate at a lot of mediocre restaurants (a drastic change from the food in Antigua), and generally had a nice relaxing time soaking up the views from all around.

I wasn’t eager to find my own way out of San Pedro and through San Juan, so I just flagged down the first tuk tuk that came along and had him lead us out. Money well spent.

We drove a couple hours to the little highlands town of Chichicastenango, otherwise known as ChiChi. They’re famous for their huge Sunday market, so we decided to check it out. We stayed in a cool old hotel with a huge room. Inside we had three beds a sitting area, and a fireplace. The kids thought it was the greatest hotel room ever. Best of all, each room came with a button to ring your personal butler. To be clear, the room was about fifty bucks a night and was very very far from the nicest place we’ve ever stayed, but when you’re a kid, these things add up to a “best ever” rating.

We had nice views of the colorful cemetery.

We spent the afternoon wandering around town a bit, exploring the cemetery, and having some dinner. A six-year old boy latched on to us trying to sell us some pens. I gave him a couple Qs and we went into the restaurant. Soon he had snuck around to the patio side door and was at our table. He was a sweet boy and ate as much as the rest of us. When we were done, a Guatemalan family sitting nearby who had noticed him offered him some food as well. The waiter had been nervously trying to politely get him to leave, but after realizing that all of his customers were happy to have him he instead settled for bringing him inside the restaurant and setting him down by himself with some food. When we were leaving I said goodbye and slipped a good wad of money into his hand. He lit up and ran off. We hoped he could at least call it an early night this way. A full belly and better than a day’s wages in his pocket.

Of course, it couldn’t be that easy for him. Later that night we went out to have an ice cream. As we walked through the plaza he came right up to us again, this time selling a handful of flags. We brought him inside and we all had an ice cream together. I asked where his mother was and he pointed vaguely across the plaza. We said our goodbyes again, and I figured we’d see him first thing in the morning at the market, but surprisingly we didn’t see him again. Six years old. If you’d told me when I was Ouest’s age that there were kids like that out in the world working day in and day out I’d have believed you, but it would have been an abstract concept. There is nothing abstract about it for Ouest and Lowe. For better or for worse, they’ve learned firsthand a lot about how the world works.

You’ll never guess which blonde lady this dog attached himself to. He walked at our heels through the cemetery, down the hill, and right into town where he immediately found himself in fights with other local mutts while Ali yelled at them all for being mean to each other. Somehow I got us back to the hotel without any strays.

I never tell my kids to be careful, but I do say cuidado a lot more than I’d like.

We ended the night by ringing our butler, who came promptly with kindling and arms full of logs, much to the kids’ delight.