FISHING ON LAGO ATITLAN

Last week I generously gave the four brothers at my Guatemalan homestay the fishing rod and tackle box that had brought me such litle success in the US last month, when I realised that the rod had got broken at some point during the two planes, taxi ride, three chicken buses, toyota pick up truck and three wheeled tuk tuk that got me from Las Vegas to San Pedro. 

On giving them the regalo, I was immediately invited to join the eldest two brothers on a fishing expedition to Lago Atitlan, where I was promised we would catch pescado as big as an 11 and a 9 year old can hold their hands apart. - 'Sabado.' I promised them last Tuesday. - 'Despues de Nariz de Indo y el partido de futbol.'

Today was Sabado, and no sooner had the referee blown the final whistle and Ze Germans had won again, came the first - 'Vamos a pescar.' I sighed inwardly and pretended not to hear, partly because I was tired from getting up at 6AM to go climb Indians Nose, and partly because my recent fishing at Lake Tahoe had reminded me that although I like the idea of catching fish, I don't particularly like the actual fishing part as I invariably spend half my time untying knots in my line and trying to unhook my hook from rocks or weeds at the bottom of wherever I'm fishing. To make matters even worse, since I would be with an 11 year old and a 9 year old on this fishing trip, I wouldn't even get to drink beer whilst I untied the knots from my line, nor would I be able to swear as I tried to unhook my hook from rocks and weeds.

Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the second - 'Vamos a pescar' came, this time followed by a firm - 'Me dijiste' - you said. Sighing inwardly again, I knew I had to go.

I waited whilst the two brothers dug up worms in the garden, and then I put the biscuits I had recently bought as comfort food for studying for the Spanish exam I have on Monday in my pocket when the boys astutely reminded me that all three of us would probably get hungry later as we fished. - 'Vamos a tomar un Kayake?' the brothers then asked me as we walked towards the lake, explaining that the fish were much bigger in the centre of the lake than the minnows we would surely only catch from Lago Atitlan´s shoreline.

Sighing inwardly for the third time, I checked my wallet to make sure I had money in it, and on we walked, me with my chocolate biscuits in my pocket, Augustin with an empty crips packet he had filled with worms, and Beto with our fishing equipment, consisting of a tin can with some fishing line and a hook wrapped around it, and another reel with some line and a hook.

- 'Donde es mi ...?' I motioned a fishing rod with my hands, unfortunately having not yet covered essential fishing vocabulary during my Spanish lessons in San Pedro thus far. One of the brothers explained that my broken rod had not yet been fixed by their father, so we would have to make do with the tin can and the reel.

To summarise the fishing trip on Lake Atitlan that followed, the kayake cost me GBP 1.60 for two hours, "we" spent most of the time fishing in shallow waters (that we could have fished from shore without the kayake) amongst reeds, floating pumice stones and other lake detritus such as plastic forks and the sole of a flip flop, and "we" caught one measly fish between us.

I say "we" fished and "we" caught, because the reality is Augustin and Beto did all of the fishing, whilst I sat at the back of the kayake eating chicharrones and chocolate biscuits and getting wet. Its a safe bet that I won't be going fishing again any time soon.

 The Catch Of The Day, on Lago Atitlan.
Note: You may have to save the photo to your local computer drive and then use Microsoft Paint to zoom, but I assure you there is a fish in this picture