Travel Missteps: Groped in Guatemala or am I just bad at Charades?

The ruins of Santa Clara

Before dinner I decided to squeeze in one last site. I was excited to see the many ruined churches of Antigua and there was one I could see from my hotel, a ruin called Convento de Santa Clara. Camera ready, I paid the Q40 to the bored man at the dark entrance.  As you enter to the left the ruined church juts out of the ground, with amazing cravings! I stood mesmerized for a little while as some young children ran around playing tag. After taking a few photos I decide to leave the church to the end, and instead head right to explore the grounds.

There was a huge courtyard surrounded by colonnades and other outbuildings. In the center was a large fountain. I skirted around the courtyard and wandered through the back buildings. It was peaceful and I was the only one around.  Occasionally I’d turn a corner and find a young teenager, sitting down and doing their homework. Or other locals just taking naps within the ruins. Here and there were disturbed ground, I couldn’t decide if it was due to archeological digs, or something else. (In the back of my mind I thought it would be an amazingly good place to bury a body.)

Some of the ruined buildings I couldn’t figure out what they had been before, others I could just instantly tell that this is where their kitchens had been, or this one was used as the living quarters. After a while I realize that my time is running out, that eventually the ruins would close, so I head towards the church.

The playing kids and their parents are long gone, and I seemingly have the place once more to myself. I walk along a dark hallway and into a large half football sized dark chamber. There aren’t many windows in this room, so not much to see, so I’m about to hurry out into the larger part of the church. A local man comes up to me and starts speaking Spanish. I awkwardly explain I don’t speak Spanish, and he obviously doesn’t speak English. He seems good natured so I just shrug and start to walk away. But suddenly he throws me face first against the corner of the wall.

The seconds tick by as my mind races. I had done multiple types of martial arts as well as specialized self defense class from an undercover detective. But I had never been tested before like this…and I froze completely. The man seemed good natured, I hadn’t even been prepared for him pushing me up against the wall. I hear him whispering to me, but i cannot understand it. And then I realize…I don’t sense him behind me. I slowly move my head from facing the wall and pan around looking for the man. I can barely see him at the other end of the dark room. I’m confused, as I can see him lean in towards the corner of the wall…talking to it quietly.

My mind is like “This guy is crazy…” until I realize…with my ear now against the corner of the wall I can hear him as clearly as if he was standing right behind me. And it dawns on me…this man is trying to make extra money by explaining things to tourists. What he had been trying to tell me before is that this old church has such good acoustics that you could easily hear someone whispering at one end of the room to the other.

I start to laugh at my fear! He hears me and comes running up to me. Now that I understand he’s not going to rape me, I relax. We walk together into the larger part of the church. This looks more like a normal old church, and I understand some of what he says. Things like him pointing to a pulpit and saying “Padre”.  I nod, yep, that is obviously where the Priest would give his sermon to the parishioners seated below. We move into another room, and I understand when he explains about the niches in the walls were for the confessional.

As we walk he takes my camera and takes photos of me. I have no idea why I just handed over my camera, I’m usually very protective of it. But I just felt so bad that I had thought he was going to hurt me when he was just over-eager in his explanations. (Hey I’m a history geek myself, and would have loved to be able to understand everything he said. Its not every day you get a local guide and so I was appreciative of his time.)

We then go down some stairs into a dark area. I know he says the word for Nun, but the rest i don’t understand. I stare blankly as he tries to tell me a story. I feel bad as I’m just not understanding it. So I nod anyway as if I understood, while my mind makes up a story to go with what he says. He kept pantomiming something about the nuns hair (or hat?) and how something was wrong about it. (In my mind the story I made up was, if nuns were bad and cut their hair, they were imprisoned in this dark dungeon like area.)

View from Santa Clara choir loft

When he was satisfied that I had enjoyed his story we walk up some flights of stairs that overlooks the main church area.  Its obviously was the choir loft. I take some photos as we start playing Charades again trying to understand his story. He is explaining its the choir loft, but there was something he really wanted me to understand. He pointed to his crotch, and made an X with both hands. Like “No Penis”. He then points to his chest and also mimes an X. I just stare confused (and likely still affected by jet lag).

He then steps closer to me touching his crotch, then X, and then touches my crotch, then X, and then he grabs my boobs, and then X. I just go dear in the headlights again. Part of my mind is like “Oh my god! I’m getting groped!?” the other is like “No…he’s just not understanding that this is culturally inappropriate to me, but likely not to him. He’s not doing this sexually…but only to try to explains something to me.” My dear in the headlights look and my confused look is probably the same, so he starts doing it faster. His crotch, my crotch, my boob, X. Over and over. I keep trying to work out this bizarre Charades riddle. This weird touching continues for an inordinate amount of time. In the back of my mind I’m still freaked out that he is touching my crotch and boobs. And I realize that he has my camera still.

Still I try to understand. After what seemed like the 20th time he touched me I realized that 1. I’m not comfortable with this. 2. I’m never going to understand this and 3. I need to get the fuck out of this ruined church. I just start backing up and trying to wave him off. I try to get my camera but he won’t give it back, he’s still sadly trying to get me to understand why he is touching me. I try to hand him money (in exchange for the camera) and he refuses. I can tell he is trying to tell me there is much more to see. I hurry him down the stairs but he stops me a few times for a few more photo ops.

This was my “Oh shit…how do I get my camera back” moment.

He leads me back to the fountain and takes some more photos of me. Then he lets me check to see if they turned out okay. I grab the camera, say thanks, and drop 40 dollars in cash in his hands…and sprint away as he politely yells at me to stay.

I was freaking out, and just wanted to get back to the hotel. After this photo he handed my camera back to check to see if the photo was good. I then bolted.

I run the 2 blocks back to my hotel, run into my room, and finally let it sink in that was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done while traveling. And I just start laughing that kind of panic laughter one gets while stressed. My room is hot so I decide to get some air, and thankfully run into a guy my age. We talk and find out that we are on the same tour that starts the next day. I relay what happened to me, and he offers to stick with me that evening and the following day. I gratefully accept as I realize now that wandering alone on my own might not be the best course of action.

But the story doesn’t end there! After returning home, I share this story with some friends. One friend in particular had been to Antigua before and he watched as I mimed out the story. And he was able to solve the riddle for me.

What has no penis, no vagina, and no boobs and sings in a choir loft?

Little boys….castrated so they can hit the high notes.

To my strange guide that day: I probably could have done without that random factoid.

Travel Missteps is an every-other week series on how sometimes part of the journey is making mistakes and getting lost.