Post 25- Back to Guatemala, and a twist in the plot

May 1,2026

Guy went to visit Uncle Tuvy and found himself surrounded by wonderful soulmates, people who support, care for, and make sure he doesn't lack for anything. He briefly entered into Tuvy's routine, connected to family nostalgia, cooked chicken soup, tidied up, cleaned, and even found forgotten family treasures. And most of all, he hopes he was able to bring some joy, warmth, and motivation with him.

My course

I took off for cold northern Idaho, to a beautiful lakeside town surrounded by snow-capped mountains. There, I met a group of fascinating, powerful, and curious women for the next stage of our training.

I was especially excited to meet Berta, my teacher for the past three years, whom I had only known through Zoom until now.

Berta is as full as a pomegranate with knowledge, life experience, wisdom, and maturity, and shares it with us with extraordinary generosity.

I had a deep and special week, intense and full of challenges, and with a significant growth leap in my therapeutic ability (at least that's how it feels on the inside). I'm back with a new, fascinating, and profound therapeutic tool that joins my toolbox.

Shamanic work connects to the worlds of energy and consciousness, allowing for subtle yet profound access to additional layers in the healing process.

On the shore of the lake stands a miniature Statue of Liberty, a gift the town received from a family

Back to the Bear and the road to Lake Atitlan

We landed in Guatemala City after a white night, or as the Americans say, a “red-eye” flight. We took an Uber to Axel’s yard, and were happy to meet him… and our bear, white, clean, and beautiful, waiting for us on the grass as if no time had passed.

After two days of organizing, water, shopping, and planning, we set off for our next destination: Lake Atitlán.

Lake Atitlan is one of the most special places in Guatemala. It is a deep lake surrounded by tall, powerful volcanoes, and scattered among them are small villages, each with its own character. The mountainous topography and narrow roads make getting between villages a challenge, so most of the traffic around the lake is done by water, in taxi boats that connect the villages.

In the yard of the charming Axel, with his dogs - 4 luxurious and friendly Ritzbecks, and sunrise from the window of the plane

The little twist is on the way…

We found a convenient, wide, and accessible parking lot, which we had planned to reach as a first step, but somehow we were convinced to try another place, on the outskirts of San Marcos, on the recommendation of Bernard the Canadian. He warned that there might be roadblocks ahead of a local holiday, but promised an alternative route.

In practice, there was none.

We descended a particularly steep and winding road, with serious gradients, only to discover that there was no way out. We entered a village with narrow, sidewalk-free streets, full of people, tuk-tuks, motorcycles, and merchants with baskets in the middle of the road… a challenging experience, to say the least.

At some point, someone started running after us. We stopped, and unfortunately, we had slightly hit a car parked on the side of the road, almost knocking its windshield off.

A conversation with a lot of hand gestures, a bit of tension, an attempt to understand and explain, and finally ending with a payment of $50 so he could repair the damage. We were left with another small, purple scratch on the bear, a souvenir of the encounter.

We managed to get out of the village, found a simple parking lot for the night, not the most dreamy place, but safe. We were exhausted. We just fell asleep.

The next day, we tried again to reach the San Pedro area via alternative routes, but without success. In the end, we headed to Panajachel and arrived without further drama.

There we found a beautiful spot on the lakeshore. In the first few days, we parked a little farther away because of events: a wedding, a company event, and even a community gathering of Americans with country music, food, and dancing.

After a few days, we moved to the yard itself, a wide lawn, right on the water. One of those places that's hard to leave.

The villages around the lake

Over the past week we’ve been here, balancing work with visits to the villages around the lake—each one a world of its own:

• Panajachel – this is where we’re staying, just outside the town, over a small hill. It serves as the gateway to the lake—a lively, vibrant place that blends local life with tourism, with open views of the water and the surrounding mountains. This is where we do our shopping, and from here we take boats to explore the different villages around the lake.

• San Marcos La Laguna – a peaceful, spiritual village, filled with yoga centers, meditation spaces, and healing practices. We tried to get there unsuccessfully, and after our experience on the way, we decided to let it go.

• San Pedro La Laguna – young, lively, with more of a backpacker vibe and nightlife, yet still home to a vibrant and authentic local community. We were told that almost everyone there speaks Hebrew, due to the many Israeli travelers who pass through—so we chose to skip it.

• San Juan La Laguna – a small, especially colorful village, with houses and streets painted in beautiful traditional patterns. We arrived by boat; the main street was crowded with tourists, but once we moved beyond it, we found a small, family-run museum that has been there for over 40 years. There we met the father of the family, who happily gave us detailed explanations (in Spanish) about the exhibits. We were especially drawn to the unique Mayan calendar:

They had a complex and precise system of timekeeping that combined cycles of nature with cycles of consciousness—a 365-day agricultural calendar alongside a 260-day sacred calendar, in which each day carries its own unique quality and energy.

The agricultural calendar is based on the solar cycle and the seasons, guiding everyday life—planting, harvesting, seasonal rituals, and daily routines.

The sacred calendar (Tzolk’in) is the deeper, spiritual one, based on a 260-day cycle.

Every child born into Mayan culture receives a kind of personality reading based on these calendars—and we, too, were each given a small card describing our characteristics. Some of it felt remarkably accurate.

The Sacred Tablet (Tzolk'in)

This is the deeper, spiritual calendar, and is based on a 260-day cycle.

Every baby born in the Mayan culture receives a character reading based on these calendars, and we each received a bookmark with our own characteristics. There were precise things there.

The colorful streets that are hard to stop photographing

The museum, with the sacred calendar

When we left the museum, we saw a small sign leading to a women's handicraft cooperative. We entered through a narrow path between the houses, and arrived at an inner courtyard, where a woman was sitting who was happy to welcome us and immediately began to tell the story, about the production of cotton, and the weaving threads, dyeing them with natural dyes, and weaving them into fabrics, clothes, purses, scarves, carpets, and a host of other spectacular handicrafts.

Narrow roads on the way to a whole world within inner courtyards

• Santiago Atitlán – the largest and most traditional village around the lake, with a strong and visible Mayan presence in the markets and local art. Most of the residents are Tz’utujil, who have preserved their unique language—and indeed, in the streets they speak a language distinct from Spanish among themselves. It is less touristic than the other villages around the lake.

  We took a boat taxi there, and the moment we stepped onto the dock, a friendly young man approached us—a local guide who explained, in clear Spanish, why it would be worth taking him along. He was right. We spent a fascinating few hours with him, visiting places and hearing stories we would not have reached on our own.

  First stop – we climbed up to a viewpoint overlooking the village and the lake. There, we learned that most residents make their living from agriculture—corn, beans, coffee, and fruit—often grown on very steep slopes.

  Living so close to the lake is both a blessing and a challenge: the water level rises and falls, and in some years the lake actually floods parts of the village. Homes, roads, and fields are submerged, and the community simply adapts, rebuilds, and continues on—part of the natural cycle of life here.

  Just like in a song by Dani Litani.

In the picture on the left, it's hard to see, but there are women doing laundry in the traditional way, in water, as in India.

Second stop - We passed by the cemetery, where those who can afford it buy a plot of land and build a small structure for the whole family. These structures are painted in bright, vibrant colors each year on the Day of the Dead.

The result is a strikingly colorful cemetery—one that gently reminds us how closely life and death are intertwined.

Third stop -We went to look for Maximón (Maximon). He is a unique figure—a blend of ancient Mayan beliefs and Christian influences.

It is a statue wrapped in fabric and ties, usually kept in a private room in one of the families' homes, and each year it is moved to a different household within the village.

Shamanic and very personal rituals take place around him: people come to ask for health, luck, love, livelihood or protection. They light candles, talk to him, give offerings, and sometimes also cigarettes and alcohol, which are “served” to him as part of the ritual. We arrived in the room just as a shamanic ceremony was taking place, where the shaman was sitting, and next to him was a man who had come especially from Guatemala City to ask for support in finding a job. The room is divided into two, half of it is filled with statues of Jesus and Christian figures, and the other half is decorated with Maximon and surrounded by candles, flowers and objects from the Mayan culture. This is a classic example of the combination of cultures and beliefs, without conflict or power struggles.

The narrow alleys, on the way to Maximon, a shamanic ceremony, and a room containing Jesus and his friends, and flowers with Maximon all together in one celebration

Fourth stop - Cultural and Art Gallery – once again, we find ourselves wandering through the village’s narrow alleys until we arrive at a colorful gallery filled with vibrant artwork. There, we receive an explanation of how these unique paintings are created, along with more stories about the local culture.

Santiago is well known for its local art, especially its colorful paintings that depict daily life, markets, ceremonies, and the surrounding landscape. There is something both naïve and direct about them—and I’m reminded that my mother once bought similar paintings when we visited Guatemala as a child. They have since adorned the walls of our home, and later, hers.

The scarf - This is a well-known courtship method. The guy pulls her scarf and if she pulls it back, it's a sign that she's not interested.

Fifth Station - Memory and War

The village also houses a cemetery and memorials to the difficult events of the Guatemalan Civil War, especially the massacre of civilians in 1990. It was a long struggle between the government army and guerrilla groups, but in practice, it mainly affected the indigenous population. Thousands of Maya were murdered, disappeared, or displaced from their homes, leaving behind a community that still carries the memory of this painful trauma and continues to carry the memory as part of its identity.

Between the stops, we walk around the village, between the market and the central square, experiencing the local atmosphere, the clothing, the language, and an entire world of living and breathing Maya.

Last stop—Guy asked for good coffee—and found a café serving some of the best coffee there is.

That’s also where we said goodbye to Samuel, our guide, and took a boat back home to the Duba, waiting for us on the grass.

Atitlán Natural Reserve

A few minutes' walk from the parking lot where we were staying, we discovered a small, well-kept nature reserve with neat trails leading through rich, green vegetation to a hidden waterfall, and along the way, we also entered a magical butterfly farm. The place is well-maintained and well-maintained, with meticulous landscaping and beautiful nature that feels almost like a secret garden.

The big twist

While we were in the States, Guy received a job offer. At the same time, we realized that the trip was more expensive than we had planned, and the longing for our children, family, and friends grew stronger.

We sat down for a moment. We thought again. And we decided to return to Israel in mid-July.

This, of course, brings with it “small” logistical questions… like what to do with the bear. Then, as often happens on this journey, a suggestion came through Keren, our road angel: to store it in Gino’s yard in Santa Cruz. Just come and store. Generosity from people we don’t really know yet.

And what now?

Next week, we will meet Agam in El Salvador (planned months in advance), travel around the country a bit, and even visit the capital, a place I have distant childhood memories of.

From there, we will begin our climb north, through Guatemala and Mexico, to Santa Cruz. There, we will say goodbye to the bear for a few months (or maybe more), and continue on to Australia to hug our Mika.

We will arrive in Israel in mid-July. The house is rented, and we have the opportunity to try something new, city life, close to the children and family.

So if you happen to hear about an apartment for rent in the Tel Aviv area, we would be very happy to hear from you.

In the meantime, we continue on our way, and the adventures continue with us.

So far, for now

We will continue to share, tell stories, and photograph.

With love,

Guy, Efrat, and the bear 🐻