on the chicken bus

Last week I went to Guatemala. We had a long day of traveling on Tuesday to get to our destination of San Lucas Toliman by the end of the day. I was traveling with Melissa and Anne. Anne had been to Guate before, so Melissa and I just sorta trotted after her as we went from van to taxi to bus to another bus and to yet another bus. We took 8 different buses, taxis and vans in our almost 12 hours of traveling on that day. The main form of transportation are the chicken buses, colorfully painted and decaled school buses, just like the ones I used to ride as a kid, that are crammed full of people and driven at high speeds on winding roads through the Guatemalan highlands. I have no idea why they are called chicken buses, or even if they are called that in Spanish. But they oddly remind me of the type of colorful costumes and masks that the Lucha Libre fighters wear. They seem similar to me in design and hue. Take a look: http://www.karlgrobl.com/Browner2New/bus%20antigua%20guatemala_std.jpg
They are almost always have religious phrases emblazoned in huge, sparkly letters across the windshield, like "Fe En Dios" - Faith In God, or "Regalito de Dios" - Gift from God... stuff like that. Often they have other Bible quotes written on the inside of the bus, right above the front windshield. They are usually along the lines of "God is watching over you on your travels..." My friend Vann found this amusing. Instead of having seat belts, we have the protection of God, as the driver makes risky, high speed attempts to pass slower vehicles on inclines or around blind turns, then stops to cram some more people in the already crowded bus. I feel like it's just part of the adventure, but it does make for exhausting travel.

So Anne, Melissa and I made it safely to San Lucas, though we weren't sure we'd make it there all in one day. We ended up at a crossroads called "Las Trampas" - The Trap - as the sun was getting ready to set, waiting for a bus we weren't sure was coming. Melissa wasn't so keen on trying to catch transportation at a place with such an ominous name, but everything worked out fine. We rode another chicken bus down towards Lake Atitlan as a red, red sun set behind the clouds, and a thick fog blew in. We were in the very back of the bus, a coveted place for elementary school kids. But I found it jarring to be launched out of my seat each time we hopped over one of the many speed bumps. My back was hurting at the end of the ride. At the crossroads to San Lucas Toliman, I entered a hazy, grey fog shrouded world, with an abundance of blinking fireflies greeting me. I was about to share this beautiful moment with my companions, but they were already hopping into the back of a pickup truck headed into town. So I kept it to myself, and continued to watch the blinking flies as the truck whisked us into town.

After some searching, we found the house of Gabriel Cuj and his family, who Anne knows from previous visits to the school. Gabriel is the principal of an autonomous school started 14 years ago. The school is centered around preserving the Mayan cultural traditions of these people, and is part of an association of such schools in Guatemala. Gabriel, his wife Escolastica, and their 3 kids were gracious and welcoming hosts. Gabriel arrived from work shortly after we did, and we had a nice dinner and chat together. The next afternoon, we traveled a half hour to visit the school, where Anne was going to give a concert of songs from various Latin American revolutions and movements in the evening. A member of a community organization was also coming to talk to the children about the Tratado de Libre Comercio (TLC), or the Central American Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA) that Guatemala signedwith the US a month ago, amidst large and violent protests by the population that left one protestor murdered by police. CAFTA is no good, and is widely expected to benefit the rich business men in the US and Latin America, while deteriorating conditions for the majority of poor and working class persons in the hemisphere. Call your elected officials and tell them to oppose it: http://www.stopcafta.org/

Well, Gabriel decided that it would be a good idea to have a pannel discussion between the four of us, where each of us would have 10 minutes to talk about the TLC and our reactions to it. Good thing we had done a work shop on global trade agreements and financial institutions just the week before! Some in our small group were still rather nervous about taking the stage in front of 200+ Guatemalan school kids. Given my natural talents and wonderful stage presence, I knew I could hack it (wink, wink...) At the very least, I knew I could blabber on for 10 minutes about how international trade agreements like NAFTA and CAFTA are undemocratic and have mechanisms to force countries to accept imports of goods, even if the gov't decides it's toxic or against the better good of people; that it will encourage poor people to leave the country to search for work in bigger cities, or even the US; etc... On a side note, did you know that the #1 source of $$ coming into Mexico last year was from money orders sent by Mexicans working in America??!! Why, I ask, after 10+ years of NAFTA, are so many Mexicans continuting to look for work in the US?? Cuz NAFTA ain't done shit to improve the lives of poor people here. The talk went well, and each of us 4 panelists answered a coupla questions from the audience. Then we got ready for Anne's concert.

Melissa and I thought we were off the hook, but we weren't. One of the teachers said they'd like it if we all sang a song together at the end. So we decided on "The Times They Are A Changin" and Anne started her show. The kids loved her songs. She played the one about Che Guevara twice, cuz they asked for it, and each time she tried to end the show, the kids screamed for more: "Otra! Otra! Otra!" Melissa, who'd been nervous about the pannel discussion, was adamant about not singing. She kept telling me no, no, no. But when the time came to share our song, I think she was to nervous to be a bad guest and not do it. So we got up, and the three of us sang while I played. Bob Dylan isn't nearly as popular as Che Guevara in rural Guatemala, for numerous obvious reasons, but I gave a brief description of the song in Spanish, and we dove on in. It went great; I mean, Anne had the kids eating out of her hand at that point, so we really couldn't lose. At the end, one of the teachers thanked us and presented each of us with a small gift of a pound of coffee. As he gave the gift to each of the women, the kids screamed for kisses "Beso! Dale beso!" You could barely hear his words of gratitude over the roar of the children. The kids erupted with delight as Anne, Melissa, and then I blew them kisses in response to their chiding. It was amazing. I had no idea how easy, and satisfying, it is to be a rockstar in the eyes of the youth of Guatemala...

Later that evening Melissa and I met up with Vann, who'd been chillin on the other side of the lake. Then next day, after a walk around town and a swim in the beautifully clear lake, Vann and I left for San Pedro, the touristy lake town where he'd been hanging. Melissa and Anne stayed to check out some more projects going on in San Lucas. San Pedro was OK. We had a nice soak in some solar heated hot tubs. It seemed like the kind of place where you could pass a month in a haze of pot smoke and not do much of anything. But I was only there for a day... The next day, on the way out of town we had a bit of confusion, and ended up paying 150 Quetzales (aroudnd $18) for a private truck ride out of town. The driver tried to drop us off at the side of the road not 15 minutes out of town, but I made him take us to the crossroads where we could catch the bus to Xela, our destination. Vann was pissed at getting swindled, but I told him I'd cover it. It was a beautiful ride twisting up the mountains from the lake. A lot of coffee is grown here, and people have plots all the way up on the steep slopes of these mountains. It must take them at least 2 hours to hike up there at least.

Vann had some business to take care of in Xela, so I watched the partial solar eclipse for a bit, and ate some mango from a street vendor that didn't make me sick (I thought it was gonna). I randomly bumped into a friend of my housemate Susan on the street and had a few beers with her, and then headed back to the language school that Vann had been studying at for a spirited foozball tournament that lasted several hours. The next day, Vann and I spent many many hours on more chicken buses, heading towards the border back to Mexico. One of our buses got stopped four times as the police were searching for criminals or illegal aliens or somthing. They kept asking people for their papers and such, taking some people off, some of whom got back on and some who didn't. It was a long, hot day. We were a bit worried for the border crossing, as Vann had some problems on the way in with his visa. But we made it out fine, and continued traveling to Lagos Montebellos, in Chiapas, where we were meeting some peace house chums for a bit of a retreat and a visioning meeting for the org.

The lakes were beautiful, and the piney forests that surrounded them reminded me of Cape Cod. It was refreshing to be in a quiet place that was new, but some how familiar. We swam and ate and had bonfires at night, had our meetings and explored some caves. It was a nice place to chill before heading back to San Cris, where I now find myself.