Guatemala City and the road to Xela

Francisco was a total sweetheart at getting up at 3am to take me to the airport. I arrived on time for my 7 am flight. Everything seemed to run smoothly, which seemed strange considering it was American Airlines. I always feel like an industrial farm animal when I fly with them. I had two connecting flights before I made it to Guatemala City, so I was expecting a very long day. We got up into the air and in the first minute, the plane started making a terrible grinding sound. About 10 minutes later, the pilot told us that we would be returning to San Francisco due to ¨technical¨ problems with the plane´s landing gear, and that we shouldn´t be concerned when we see the fleet of fire trucks lined up when we land. I was a little freaked out, mostly because five years ago I had a very vivid dream while on a meditation retreat, that I would be in a plane crash. But we made it back. I¨ll spare you the chaos of the details except to say if it wasn´t for an incredibly nice check in attendant who was very chatty with me and wanted to come on my Guatemala trip to learn Spanish, I would have lost my shit. I ended up getting a connecting flight direcly to Dallas, which saved me going to LA. It´s safe to say, it all worked out...

As we flew into Guatemala City, it was dusk. The clouds were a flat landscape with volcanic looking clouds like mountains into the sky. Dramatically they would surge with electricity from the thunder storm happening below us. It was quite possibly, one of the most incredible things I have seen and reminded me that we are living on a beautiful, forgiving, and yet really pissed off planet at the moment. It looked like a mountain was being electrocuted. A really sweet guy was sitting next to me. His name was Herbert from Guatamala City, and he was scared of all the turbulance. He had only flied two times in his life, and he didn´t know what was happening. I tried to explain to him in my terrible Spanish that he would live, but he didn´t look convinced. He looked relieved when we touched the ground.

I was picked up by Dona Maria, who lives in Guatemala City. She works with Pop Wuj in helping students get to Xela. The airport is dangerous at night, and she was there, outside with the crowd waiting for me with a sign, for over an hour as my flight was late. I was so thankful to see her. She took me home to her house where I stayed the night. Her home was what would probably be considered a gated community because there was a guard and giant fence guarding the compound of houses. She was encouraging of me to speak in Spanish as she took me into her high-walled home. I asked her about the dangers of Guatemala city, and she said the violence has gotten worse over the years, and that she mostly stays in her home as she is retired. She was a lovely lady, who totally made me feel safe. I felt, however, that Guatemala City would be a very difficult place to live in due to all the violence and fear. I also was really saddened to see all the American corporate fast food chains, department stores, and gas stations. Dona Maria said ¨we even have a Hooters!¨ I asked her how to say Ï can´t escape America, no matter where I go¨ in Spanish. She laughed. I´m amazed Guatemalan´s don´t hate Americans considering the long history of us pillaging the country [starting with our overthrow of the Arbenz goverment in the 50´s for Chiquita Banana]. Ah, globalization.

I woke up at 5 am because my watch was completely off. Poor Dona Maria woke up too, and got dressed immediately and popped me into the car. I arrived at the Bus Station which I had heard was dangerous. Dona Maria instructed me not to leave the station and to keep an eye on my pack. For two hours I watched local folks watch TV while a guard with a very large rifle walked around the small station. It was pretty undramatic.

The bus was not a chicken bus, which I had been told are very dangerous at the moment. An average of a driver a day is being killed by gangs that have been robbing and pillaging these buses. The chicken buses are crammed with the poorest Guatemalan´s trying to get from A to B. I´ve heard the cartels have been trying to destabilize the country by terrorizing transporation networks etc. I´ve also heard that some of the fancier bus systems are run by the cartels and I was wondering if my bus was an example. Our driver certainly acted like he owned the road. I got on the bus, and my driver had sun glasses and slick hair with a white shirt. He had two guys with him whose job it was to convince people to get on the bus while we drove and tell people to move out of the way so we could cut in front of them. The routine was, the bus would slow down and the two guys would jump [as the bus was still moving!] They would run at people standing along the road [people I´m assuming waiting for a chicken bus]. and would try to convince them to come on. The bus would stop if it looked promising. All this, while the traffic is whizzing past while we have blocked traffic. Our driver really liked music from the 80´s and we started the trip with Survivor´s ¨Eye of the Tiger¨. It seemed infinitely appropriate as he seemed to love the power that the bus wielded as he´d aggresively honk his horn at a family of 12 crammed into a small truck in front of us. He didn´t like to be slowed down at all. When Cindy Lauper´s ¨Girl´s just want to have fun¨, started blasting through the speakers as we maniacally pissed off every one on the road, I couldn´t stop laughing. This is Guatemala! I think the drivers go to driving schools in India. As I watched the heavily scarred and deforested landscape slowly transform into hillside farms, I felt a weight lift from my head. There is nothing like travel to remind you that you are alive...

I arrived in Xela and made it to a lovely little hotel called Pension Altense. Really clean rooms and a beautifully attended court yard with flowers and plants. The room as $6. At that price, I felt like I was back in Asia. I marched across the street for a $2 lunch at Sagrado Corazon, where the restaurant is the size of my tiny room, and crammed pack with about 30 people, all locals. The food was amazing, and it was fun to pass the plates from the table next to you to help the servers who can´t get to the table. It felt like I was eating with a big family.

Everyone here is so amazingly open and friendly. I´m now walking around Xela and getting to know it. Tomorrow I´ll be placed with my family before I start class on Monday. I´m so thankful I´m here.