The Highlands
Early one morning in late July, a bunch of us from Texan Bay filed into Mike Payne's lancha, for the beautiful speed-trip down the Rio, out through Livingston harbor, and across the gulf to Puerto Barrios. The others had business to deal with, or supplies to scrape up, but we were catching a bus for Guatemala City and the Highlands... Ulf and Jen were going to school!
From Puerto Barrios, we took a bus to Guatemala City -- a five hour ride; once we arrived, we made a quick bus change, straight for Antigua -- another 45 minutes away. On our way out of "Guate," we saw a little bit of Brooklyn.
We arrived in Antigua on the night of the fiesta for San Sebastian. The streets were crowded with musicians, food vendors, pedestrians, and exploding bottle rockets. In the morning, teenagers and kids paraded through the streets. The marching band was awesome... not stiff and bored, like you might expect; they danced, and stomped, and strutted their stuff -- like a real rhythm section.
We explored beautiful Antigua, the old colonial capital of Guatemala, for a couple of days. Then we caught a so-called "chicken bus" for Quetzaltenango, where we planned to take intensive Spanish language classes for a couple of weeks.
"Chicken buses" bound for places all over Guatemala, leave from the raucous bus lot behind Antigua's market all day long, from five in the morning. The trip to Quetzaltenango, better known as "Xela," takes about four and a half hours, with a bus swap in the hectic crossroads town of Chimaltenango. The entire trip, which winds higher and higher, through stunning volcanic mountains, costs 24Q (about $3). Real, live chickens included.
We arrived in Xela in the afternoon on a Friday, a difficult time, apparently, to find a hotel room. The language schools run from Monday through Friday; so it seems like the best days to find a good room are Saturday or Sunday, early. We weren't lucky that first day. We ended up with this room... it was the best we could find in our price range -- a very, very big room with a very, very little bed.
The shared bathroom was grimey, and there was no hot water. Did we mention that Xela is 8,000 feet (2,300 meters) above sea level, and really chilly? When we locked the door of our (ball)room from the inside, the lock jammed, and neither we, nor the manager, could open it again. We were trapped inside. Luckily, there was a window, and we were on the ground floor.
It was actually pretty funny. The next morning, we woke up early and left -- by the window, of course -- and went out looking for something a little better.
We checked into a beautiful place, Hotel Kiktem-Ja, which is managed by a really nice guy named Eduardo. At $18, the Kiktem-Ja was beyond our budget, but we figured we deserved a splurge after the previous night. We spent the morning looking at language schools, and by that afternoon we had both a school and a family lined up. We would be moving in with our host family the next day.
Xela is surrounded by misty, green mountains. The cobbled streets of the historic center are hilly and narrow, and the Parque Central is beautifully maintained with beds of mountain flowers. The big volcano in the background is Volcan Santa Maria.
But there's also a gritty, real city feeling to Xela; it's not all picture perfect, cobbled and cute, like Antigua. It's a big place, for starters, with lots of different zones that radiate outward from the prettier historic center. It's a real place, with a real vibe.
A short and steep walk from Parque Central took us into the gorgeous, green mountains. We walked for hours through crop fields and kept seeing one spectacular vista after another. Along the way, we met such friendly Mayan farmers, who encouraged us to walk wherever we liked.
We moved in with our host family on a Sunday afternoon, and were treated to the first of many delicious meals. Doña Flory is an amazing cook. Every meal was something to look forward to -- with delicious new flavors and inspired spices. We ate very well -- so well, in fact, that we forgot to pause and take pictures....
Our host family are real animal lovers. There were two dogs, two cats, three birds, two bunnies, and for a couple of days, there was even a rooster. He was a gift from the father of two student boarders, Myra and Haidy, from Huehuetenango. For two days following the gift, there was a general debate in the house as to whether the rooster should become almuerzo (lunch) or mascota (pet). Jen stayed out of it, but Doña Flory's daughters, Brendy and Elvira, campaigned strongly that the rooster should live. Ulf was with the opposition. In the end, the meat-eaters won.
For a family homestay in Guatemala, our situation was pretty luxurious. For a total of 600Q (about $85), we had our own bathroom with hot water shower, plus a private sitting room, plus three meals a day, for a full seven days. We ate our three meals with our family, but we had plenty of privacy and space besides. That was just as well, since Jen had her second bout (in two months) of Montezuma's Revenge -- replete with uncontrollable shivering, high fever, and so on. Ulf was kind enough to preserve the event photographically.
Here's Ulf, pretending to study. No, actually, he really is studying.
P.S. If you haven't noticed already, it's cold in Xela... brrrrrr.
For two weeks, we took intensive Spanish lessons at Proyecto Linguistico Santa Maria, right across the street from our house. We each had a private instructor for five hours a day, five days a week. Here's Ulf, with his maestra, Martha, and Jen, with her maestra, Varsis. It was a very positive experience -- really focused and fun and effective -- and exhausting too. We are both looking forward to a few more weeks of Spanish study later on in our stay in Guatemala.
In the afternoons, Jen studied with some master weavers, Amparo and Oralia, at Trama, an association of Mayan women weavers, who sell woven goods at fair trade prices and also teach "backstrap" or "waist loom" (tela de cintura) weaving. Trama and Proyecto Linguistico Santa Maria share the same building. Our Spanish classes were held in the pretty courtyard, while Jen's weaving class was indoors. Below, Amparo expertly -- and speedily -- corrects the tension of Jen's warp:
One Friday morning, our Spanish teachers took us to the market at San Francisco El Alto, a forty minute bus ride even higher into the mountains. The mercado at San Francisco El Alto, with views of Xela far below, is known to be Guatemala's biggest market of all. It is particularly a wholesaler's market, for retailers who come to buy goods in bulk. San Francisco El Alto also has the dubious honor of being the place with the # 1 highest infant and mother mortality rate in all of Central and South America.
Look closely at the basket on top of this woman's head... it's full of live chickens:
The live animal market, alone, is really something to see. It's at the highest place in the market, on a windswept, dirt floored plaza. The vendors stand or sit with their animals... puppies, pigs, sheep, goats, geese, cows... while buyers meander through the crowd, evaluating and weighing the "merchandise."
Someday, Jen is going to keep a pig. And it won't be for almuerzo.
The market at San Francisco El Alto is not a touristic market. We saw a couple other gringos as we wandered through the streets. There were beautiful fabrics and handicrafts, but the majority of the market was for the Guatemalans themselves.
These pictures are pretty typical of how people bring goods to the market in Guatemala:
Below is a "wall" of tipica: the fabric that Mayan women use to make their skirts. The different pueblos produce, and wear, different woven patterns.
Here's Jacinto, who owns and runs the lavanderia where we had our clothes washed while in Xela. Jacinto is a photographer, and takes a great interest in the language students and volunteers who come to Xela. The walls of his lavanderia are full of small, framed photos of the many foreigners who've been his customers over the years. On many frames, students' names and countries, are neatly recorded on masking tape.
After two weeks in Xela, we were reluctant to leave... but there was a treat in store for us: our muy amiga from Brooklyn was coming to visit....