Monterrico is changing, but into what? One can almost imagine thousands of migrating Pacific turtles waiting with bated breath offshore for the answer. Still a fishing village but already a resort bathed in sunlight and the white-noise lullaby of the surf, Monterrico has the distinction of being inside a nature reserve set aside largely for ocean-going chelonians. Today this town in a coastal plain — ironically named “Rich Mountain” — stands at an evolutionary crossroads.

Coffee growers from the highlands of Western El Salvador once dreaded the transport of beans from their fincas to the port of Acajutla. In the middle of this journey, the arrieros encountered a tumultuous pass known as El Imposible, a narrow patchwork of logs tied together over a murderous precipice that fell straight down on both sides. The arrieros blindfolded the mules hauling the coffee as they crossed the pass so the animals would not be spooked by the bridge and the gaping abyss it precariously spanned. Many merchants and even more unsuspecting mules lost their balance on the pass and plunged to their certain deaths.

You may have been urged to think “outside the box” to be creative on occasion. This idea can be readily applied to how one envisions the Lake Atitlán Basin. The normal focus of the lake basin is on the majesty of the lake itself and the inside slopes, which naturally draw one to it. But there is fascination to be had on the basin’s outer face as well. Los Tarrales Nature Reserve, on its south side, is a good case in point. Tarrales are bamboo thickets, plant life here that shares space with a profuse variety of tropical and sub-tropical flora and fauna.

text & photos by Richard J. Morgan Szybist

Gaspar Reanda, school director, with sixth
grade students at one of the nature stations.

How much contamination would it take to kill the deepest lake in Central America? There is no simple formula to compute such a math problem, and fortunately, there is a group more interested in working to prevent this outcome than bureaucratically pondering the variables involved or analyzing the realization of such a disaster, post-mortem. Meet the Asociación Amigos del Lago de Atitlán (A.A.L.A.), a Guatemalan NGO that devises projects and applies resources to the objective of keeping Lake Atitlán a living world-class natural wonder. This is the story of a recent project of this organization that is paying dividends at a primary school in Santiago Atitlán.

by Lena Johannessen

The Salvadoran Museum of Natural History was founded in 1976 in the casco (main house) of Finca Gloria, inside the Parque Saburo Hirao. The Hirao Park is a collection of native and imported plant species that was created by Japanese citizen Saburo Hirao and later donated to the government. In 1998, Hurricane Mitch heavily damaged the building, and the museum had to close to the public; then in 2001, earthquakes damaged the building even further, leading to the museum’s permanent closure.

Until now, Volcán San Pedro fit the common “good news-bad news” mold of most volcanoes in Guatemala. The good part was that it was an exhilarating volcano to climb; wonderful exercise, exposure to rural indigenous culture along the way, superb views en route up and at the top. The bad part was that thieves made it dangerous now and then. The breaking news is that crime on the volcano’s slopes has been suppressed. Similarly newsworthy is the establishment of a reliable tourist service at the volcano’s trailhead that virtually guarantees (weather aside) the visitor a memorable experience. Of more general interest is that this system of service and security is being shaped as a model for a broader range of exciting experiences now beginning to be offered at Lake Atitlán.

For Alicia Morales, president of the La Unión coffee cooperative in El Salvador, the Rainforest Alliance certification program seemed like a bit of a gamble. However, life in rural Central America is a daily gamble, particularly for women like Alicia – a 60-year-old widow and mother of two. Morales is the first and only woman to head up a coffee cooperative in El Salvador. She has worked with the cooperative for a decade and when she accepted the nomination as its president in 1994, none of the cooperative’s other 68 members wanted the position. The cooperative was on the verge of bankruptcy, and its office and coffee mill were falling apart. Since accepting the challenge, Morales has improved La Union’s infrastructure and helped 24 of the cooperative’s 51 small farms become Rainforest Alliance certified.