Yesterday, I was climbing Volcan Pacaya for the second time. I asked the guide about the lava, which hikers can see flowing from a few feet away. Is the lava ever really dangerous, I asked?
No, the guide said. In fact, the people living in the area prefer when there is a steady supply of lava. When there is no lava, pressure builds under the surface and there is the risk of a dangerous eruption. The slow-flowing lava, on the other hand, allows the heat to be released at a safe rate.
“Hey, that’s just like people,” my brother said. “If you keep anger bubbling beneath the surface eventually you will just explode!”
True that.
I can really be a travel snob. I have been on the verge of yelling at other travelers for the last three months. Girls wearing booty shorts in conservative places. Backpackers wearing pyjama pants in public, making locals roll their eyes and confirm their view that foreigners are slobs. People insisting on walking home alone at 3am, despite the fact that both locals and foreigners have been held up at gunpoint in Xela doing just that.
But telling off these people will just lead to awkwardness, because I’ve never had tact. It’s likely it won’t achieve anything but making someone think I’m a bitch.
Seriously, though, there’s the risk that one of these days I will crack and chastise some poor, unsuspecting booty-short wearing girl. Because I keep this all under the surface.
So, in an effort to not blow up at someone, I am going to insert the occasional “snide comment edition” on Yelkaye.net. Think of it as slow-moving bitchy lava.
Besides, I know that a large proportion of travelers like to make fun of other travelers. What better thing to fill a travel blog with, at least now and then?
So, Snide Comments. Volume One.
My brother and I were waiting at our Antigua hostel for our van to Pacaya to arrive. Waiting with us was another backpacker staying at the hostel who was going to take the same hiking tour.
When the van arrived, it was pouring rain. A river of water was running down the cobblestoned streets, so the driver had no choice but to park in a puddle.
The driver got out of the car and came to greet us at the door.
“I don’t want to step in a puddle,” the backpacker told the driver immediately. “Please move the van so I can get in without getting wet.”
“We don’t really have time to move the car. Step over it,” the driver said.
“No,” the backpacker replied. “It won’t take you that long to move it.”
So the driver took at least five minutes trying to do a better parallel parking job in the very narrow street and crowded street, while the other passengers in the van shook their heads and rolled their eyes.
Once we started hiking, it became clear that our group was going to go at a moderate pace, given the different ages of people on the tour. The backpacker kept on racing ahead. When our group would pause to catch our breath every once and awhile, the backpacker would ask the guide rudely why we were going so slow.
After a pleasant hour and a half walk up the hill, we reached the lava. The backpacker immediately went walking farther up the hill on slippery gravel to see other lava, even though the guide yelled at him to come down.
Like all tour groups to Pacaya, we stayed up there for about twenty minutes or so. It was starting to get dark, so the guide asked us to leave.
The backpacker wouldn’t leave.
The guide (and other people in the group) yelled at him to come down. He could hear us, but he didn’t listen. He stayed up there for at least another fifteen minutes while the guide continued to yell at him to leave.
We ended up walking down in the dark. (I had a flashlight, so this didn’t actually bother me, but it bothered me on principal that the guy would blatantly disrespect the local guide.)
On the way home, the backpacker was speaking to two Guatemalan women on the tour.
“Where is there to go out in Antigua that’s not touristy? I hate going out and being surrounded by stupid tourists.”
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