Dancing with the Ladies to Marimba Music

Saturday, Apr. 2, 2011--San Cristobal to Quetzaltenango

Today was a long travel day that got me out of Mexico and into Guatemala.  I was up at 5:30 and taking my first bus at 6:58 to get me to the border.  Only 3 of us remained on the bus all the way there--a Guatemalan man who lives in Mexico now, a young Spanish man from Barcelona, and me.  It was a slow border crossing, so the three of us went through it together.  In Mexico, they checked us out quickly and with no charge.  Then we shared a taxi to the Guatemala checkpoint where they checked us in, again with no fee.  From there, we walked uphill through the town to the bus station.  Just as we got there, a bus we all needed to Huehuetenango was departing and we caught it.

The Guatemalan-Mexican was an interesting man.  His parents were geologists.  He is a physical therapist.  He works for Halliburton Corporation in their oil fields.  He has his home in Monterrey where his family lives, but he is presently working in Tabasco.  He said that he takes his family to San Antonio regularly to go to Sea World and to shop.

The Spanish man is an elementary school teacher.  He has tried other professions, but he said he now realizes that teaching is his calling.  He is traveling to Panama on a very tight budget.  He carries a one-man tent that cost him $10 where he sleeps and stores things while he explores wherever he is.  He says he either puts it up where there are lots of people to help look after it, or he goes into the woods where he is hidden.  If he does the latter, he packs it all in a garbage bag while he goes out exploring so people will think it is just trash.  So far, he has managed not to lose anything.

The bus we caught to Huehuetenango was a "chicken bus"--an old school bus that has been lovingly tarted up the way Filipinos used to decorate their jeepneys.  (Unfortunately, no as much effort is put into jeepneys these days as was 40 years ago.)   The Spaniard was immediately excited about it.  I knew he was disappointed that we were having to jump on the bus for a quick departure without having time for taking a photo.

From Huehuetenango, we had to go separate directions.  The Guatemalan-Mexican was meeting his parents and his brother there.  The Spaniard was going to Antigua.  And I was headed for Quetzaltenango (also known as Xela--pronounced "shea-la").  My bus was pulling out just as ours was pulling in, so I had to get my suitcase off the top of our chicken bus and get it loaded onto the next one.  In the rush, I missed the opportunity to say a proper good-bye to the two guys.  But they have my e-mail address, and I hope to hear from them someday.

Guatemalans are very helpful people.  On my second chicken bus, I asked the conductor if we would make a stop at the "rotunda" where many people change buses rather than go far to the west of town.  He said we would be taking the autopisto.  A few minutes later, however, he said I could get off the bus with the man in front of me and take another bus for 2 quetzals that would get me to the rotunda.  The man helped me, then two young men on that bus told me when to get off at the rotunda.  From there, I was able to walk about 10 blocks to my hotel.

I'm at the Casa San Bartolome.  It's a very nice colonial place.  There are pots of calla lillies lining the balcony and the stairs, and each has a blossom.  The rooms have native furniture, native bedspread, and original paintings on the walls.  It is very atmospheric, and so far it has been very quiet.

It was 16:00 when I checked in at the hotel, and I hadn't eaten all day or had a bathroom break after crossing into Guatemala.  I also needed money, since I had only exchanged $10 at the border due to a bad exchange rate that was 9% less than the going rate.  I headed downtown to take care of business.

One problem with third-world countries is that things don't always work.  There are 3 ATMs in this city, and I went to all three of them.  I could not get cash from any of them.  But it wasn't just me.  Two other westerners and a Guatemalan woman were having the same problem.  At the third ATM, however, the Guatemalan woman got her money.  None of the rest of us did.  Either the international connection was down to allow us foreigners to connect to our accounts or the ATMs were low on cash that late on a Saturday and we foreigners were making too big a request in comparison to the local lady.  Either way, I had to start worrying. Tomorrow is Sunday, so there may not be service before Monday.  I only had about $3.75 in Guatemalan currency left and I was told there are no money changers in town for changing currencies.  I teased the Guatemalan woman that I might have to go dance on the streets holding my hand out.

That led to an interesting coincidence.  Within 15 minutes I was actually dancing!  I had gone walking and looking for a place with cheap food.  Unfortunately, Saturday afternoons and evenings are not good times for that, since they tend to be small places operated by 1-2 people who close down after lunch and don't reopen until Monday.  While walking, I heard music.  A couple of people were looking inside from the street, so I jointed them.  Inside a large hall, an old-fashioned public dance was happening.  I took out my camera, sneaked up to to the door, and quickly took a photo.  A man motioned for me to come inside.  Then he said, "Come and dance with the ladies."  There weren't enough men, and several of the women were having to dance with each other.  Well, I knew a great experience when offered one, so I put my bag and pullover to the side (where a man smiled and indicated he would watch them) and started dancing with a lady.  The music was being provided by live marimba players.  There were four large marimbas with about four players on each one.  It was a local crowd.  Some of the women even had on native dress.  They were all smiling and indicating they were happy I had joined them.  The dance was a simple back-and-forth step to the music like I've danced in San Antonio to Latin music.  It was fun.  But dancing is stressful on the muscles and tendons when one hasn't done it for a long time.  After about 15 minutes, I excused myself.  But while we were dancing, a man offered to take photos.  I have 3-4 photos showing us dancing and the musicians playing.

I saw a street food market and went there.  Of the things being offered, I liked the looks of the pupusas.  I ordered a cheese one--the enchilada picante version.  Pupusas are a bit like gorditas, but they are sealed before they are cooked, and they are cooked on an oiled griddle rather than in deep fat.  This one was hot with a thick layer of gooey cheese inside.  On top were spicy, marinated slices of jalepenos, carrots, and onions.  UMMM.  Best yet, I only had to spend 6 of my 28 quetzals.

On the way back to the hotel, I saw a sign for an ice cream store.  For 2 more quetzals, I was able to buy a frozen banana on a stick.  It had been dipped in chocolate and rolled in nuts.  What a bargain!!

Now I know I can make it through tomorrow even if the ATMs are not working until Monday.  I get breakfast here at the hotel.  And I can find cheap food for the 20 quetzals I still have remaining before I go broke in terms of Guatemalan money!