To save the bees or not to save the bees

When locals tell you it is bad luck to do something, LISTEN TO THEM. I only had one weekend in Guatemala left when my housemate at my host family in Lake Atítlan asked me if I wanted to hike up the Santa María volcano with her. We would hike up on Saturday, camp at the top, catch amazing views of the active volcano Santiaguito in the morning and then hike back down. That sounded great so obviously I said yes. However, that weekend happened to be Easter weekend. Our host family and Spanish teachers at Lake Atítlan told us that it is bad luck to hike up a mountain during Easter, but since it was the last weekend we decided to do it anyway. BIG MISTAKE. 

It all started out fine. I could borrow some camping gear from one of the teachers, while my housemate brought her own single person tent with her. We packed up our huge backpacks with all the equipment, food and water we would need. At 5AM on Saturday, a friend of our host family came to pick us up and drive us three hours to the start of the hike in Xela. Maybe it would have been better to stay in Xela the night before, but we didn’t have the time. At 8AM, we arrived at the starting point and had some breakfast. So far, so good. The beginning of the hike was calm and peaceful. The further we got, the steeper the path and the rougher the terrain. We were fighting for our lives to climb over rocks and not slip in the volcano dust, which kept spraying up and filling the air, our lungs and every crevice of our bodies. After six hours, we managed to get ourselves and our huge backpacks to the top. We were absolutely demolished by the hike and the altitude, so we set up camp. Since the sky is only clear in the early morning, we couldn’t see anything yet anyway. We decided to call it an early night and enjoy the views in the morning. 

That is when the first disaster struck. 

Remember the tent that this teacher was incredibly kind to let me borrow? It was not waterproof. Want to know how I found out? I think you know how. It started raining and raining, pouring down from the heavens. Someone up there was NOT happy that we decided to brave the bad luck of being on top of a mountain on Easter. I laid there in my tent, listening to the rain drops. Hoping that the grumbling we had heard was the volcano and not a promise of even worse weather. Hoping that the tent would keep me dry. Alas, drop by drop started escaping the tent canvas and soon it would not be some drops anymore. I ran the few metres to my housemate’s tent, but the damage was already done. Wet and cold, I squeezed into the 20 centimeters that were left next to her and tried to sleep. Or better worded, to survive the night. The next morning I went to check on the damage and when I squeezed my bag the whole ocean came pouring out. There were literal puddles inside my tent. But okay, I am Dutch after all, some rain cannot keep me down. While wet to the core, the sun came up and the clouds cleared away, and we had incredible views of the smoke coming from Santiaguito. It was all worth it! 

Happy and filled with a nutritious breakfast of tortillas with chocolate paste, we started on the trip down. This was actually so much easier than going up. The sun was shining and we dried up. We met some nice people along the way and were now walking in a group of three. We were almost at the end! What more could go wrong? Obviously, everything. 

Disaster struck AGAIN. 

I was just calmly walking, when my housemate in front of me suddenly started screaming and running. For one second, I was just confused. What happened? Then I felt a sharp pain in my chin. I started looking around slightly panicked and immediately became more panicked when I beheld what my housemate was running from: thousands of bees. Someone must have stepped on a nest or something, but there was no speculating about what had happened, I had to RUN. The bees were swarming us. I was trying to bat them away with my hands, but they were everywhere. Some even got tangled in my hair and clothes. There was no escaping them. I was running for my life, trying not to scream as I did NOT want one to get into my mouth. And if you think that is already bad enough, you have to remember that I was still carrying my huge backpack. And another detail I have to add; there was a ditch all the way next to the path. I think you can see where this is going…. I was running as fast as I could, finding myself increasingly more on the right. I felt myself losing balance, tilting a bit more and more, but I knew I could not stop running so I kept on going and going until BOOM. I was suddenly laying in the ditch. Bees were still swarming me so I had no choice but to get up again, dragging my backpack with me, and keep running. The guy that was walking behind me ran straight past and I don’t blame him. In the end, we all made it through, albeit barely. All in all maybe not my best moment.

Even though it is in the segment where we get mad, there is nothing really to get mad about. Nature was just doing its thing and it was our own fault for messing with it. If there is one thing I can give you with this story, it is that you should realize that you are no match compared to nature. Always listen to the advice of locals and NEVER climb a mountain on Easter.