There’s a photo on our bedroom wall that Mark and I took from the top of a mountain in Guatemala 50 years ago. We’d confidently hiked there using a bogus map, with camping equipment fashioned from shopping bags, planning to walk one day to Lake Atitlán on the other side. It was the kind of thing we did during the nine years that we traveled as much as possible and worked only enough to keep moving. The photograph shows what we discovered: the lake was two more mountains away. Over the next five days, we followed rising smoke from one Mayan village to another, seeking water and food and talking about our future.
When I heard about Joyce Maynard’s one-week memoir writing retreat at Lake Atitlán, I knew that was the story I wanted to revisit. The trip began in Antigua, where I joined a group of 14 other women for dinner. The luxurious Porta Hotel demonstrated how far the tourist infrastructure has improved since my last visit, but the curvy, bumpy roads to the lake the next day showed what hasn’t changed. After a short boat ride, we pulled up to Joyce’s dock and were greeted by a marimba band. Our happy group danced.
Joyce built Casa Paloma from an undeveloped piece of land she purchased more than 20 years ago. Now, lovely casitas, massage palapas, dining spaces, a yoga platform, porches, a stone sauna, kitchen and living room perch on the hillside. Everything is connected by steep stone steps that require careful navigation. Huipils, carvings, masks and paintings fill the walls. There’s a swimming dock, kayaks and stand-up paddleboards waiting on shore. We were given gifts: vibrant handwoven rebozos. There were snacks: tortillas with guacamole and smoothies, courtesy of Rosa, who fed us sumptuously all week. Each accommodation offers a view of the shimmering lake and the towering volcano. My very comfortable casita even had an outdoor bathtub under a thatched roof. A nearby porch with a swinging bench made from a hand-carved canoe was the perfect spot to enjoy morning coffee before a bracing swim in the lake.
Joyce Maynard has written more than 20 books and has contributed to newspapers and magazines since she was a teenager. Her career took off after she wrote an essay for The New York Times, “An Eighteen Year Old Looks Back on Life,” and she gained notoriety for her book “At Home in the World” about her relationship with J.D. Salinger. Two of her books, “To Die For” and “Labor Day,” have been turned into movies. Throughout two marriages, she has supported her family by writing, never having “the luxury of writer’s block,” she says. “I am endlessly interested in hearing women’s stories,” she told us.
Using a large whiteboard and her arsenal of tools, Joyce led us to dissect each essay. First of all, what exactly is the story? It should move like a road trip: start somewhere and get somewhere. “I used to … and now I …,” she kept repeating. She decries adverbs and interpretive language. We were prompted to add more descriptions, edit out needless dialogue and never to underestimate the intelligence of our reader by explaining everything. It was a tough lesson. Some were told to start completely over. I’d been confident in my essay, but it didn’t survive her scrutiny. “I’m giving you such a hard time! But that’s because I know you can do better.” She was right. I worked hard on the rewrite, and the story is much better. (See my blog, peaksandpotholes.blogspot.com, to read the finished essay, “Solo Para Conocer.”)
It’s clear that Joyce has a genuine reverence for the culture. Everyone who works at Casa Paloma is local and paid well. “I don’t want to pay the people here as bargain-basement workers, but I couldn’t have built this place in the U.S.,” she said. Each day began with a description of its significance on the Mayan calendar. There was a cacao ceremony and a shaman’s ritual about choosing happiness. Local women gave us massages. We toured a nearby town to learn about medicinal herbs, beekeeping, coffee roasting, dyeing and weaving. A fisherman paddled by to talk about his life and the changing ecology of the lake.
I spent each day absorbed in stories: the trajectory of my life upon returning to Lake Atitlán, the intimate insights from the other essays, the mystical Mayan customs, and the history and nature that surrounded us. Joyce has built such a remarkable place. It’s clear to see why so many who come call the retreat one of the most meaningful weeks of their writing lives.
If you go, visit casapalomaretreat.com.
