Panajachel, Gautemala -- December '75
I ran into a big legal hassle in Mexico over possession of a roach, and the upshot of it all is that I left the country and have now found a place in Guatemala. Since that place fits well I'm not too perturbed over the situation, though it would have been nice to have continued my swing through Mexico. There's just more uptightness in this part of the world than in Asia, and so it's necessary to be careful.
Anyway, I've got an adobe hut in the barrio of Panajachel, which is the main town on Lake Atitlan, so I'm close to water, but pretty high up -- about a mile, like Colorado, and, like Colorado, in very hilly, even mountainous country. Unlike Colorado, however, there is no snow at all, and the highest peaks are volcanic. There are three volcanos around the lake, in fact, and it makes for a primeval scene.
My life here is organized along lines similar to my Mexican days (how few of them there were!): meditation, writing (I'm getting near the end of Chapter III of Getting Off, playing the recorder, going for walks (but no swimming: this lake would freeze your fipple!), just being quiet and peaceful. By the way, I'm finding the letters I wrote you (which you returned to me a while ago) a good source of ideas in reconstructing my attitudes and concerns in those days. Thanks, man. Give my love to Mirotchka, wherever she roams, and keep some for yourself: there's plenty for both of you.
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