2. Packed up my stuff (which still fits in a small internal frame
backpack, I'm proud to say)
3. Ate breakfast (got the Típica Especial, rather than my usual, the
Americano--which, is as American as they come, as it consists of
scrambled eggs with ham, refried beans, sour cream, and masa tortillas.
The típica is the same, except that it has fried bananas, too. Knew I
wouldn't be eating until late afternoon, and I thought I needed a little
extra. I was right.)
4. Then headed to the plaza principal to catch a micro (that's
pronounced mee-crow for you speakers of Inglés) out of Uspántan.
Before I continute, three digressions:
Up until today, I felt a little guilty for taking a micro out to
Uspántan when I first went out there--these vans leave every twenty
minutes or so, so they're easier to catch, and they're not much more
expensive than taking the regular old chicken bus, but the chicken bus
is the _real_ way to travel for the _real_ experienced Central American
traveler. Vans are more expensive, but faster, generally more
comfortable, and typically less entertaining. But the locals take these
vans--they're not the same as the tourist vans that cost $15 for a run
between the Guate. airport and Antigua. They're packed in like chicken
buses (26 people in the 15 passenger van at one point today), and
they're driven like chicken buses (that is, insanely).
Second, Emily tells me it's 100 in Boulder. I want all of you people
back home enjoying clean drinking water out of the tap to know two
things. First, I had a coke made with real sugar today, not corn
syrup. Second, it was sunny and about 68 today. Take that!
Third, when I was in Antigua, just before I left, I had this
conversation with an American taking Spanish classes there who told me
that when he described them as "Chicken Buses," his Spanish teacher told
him that "Chicken Bus" is inappropriate, asking him, "Are you a
Chicken?" As I related to Emily earlier today, I told the guy that if
they named them after me, they would be "Gringo Buses," which clearly
isn't appropriate. I've seen far more chickens, pigs, and sacks of
rice, potatoes, and fertilizer on those things than gringos.
"Fertilizer Buses" has a nice ring to it (and the Spanish translation,
"Abono Bus" has the double meaning, "bonus bus"), but the drivers might
take offense. Although they don't use much organic fertilizer down
here. The alternative suggested by this guy eating pancakes at Café
Condesa in Antigua (my second favorite Antigua restaurant--it's like the
Antigua Big Boy) told me that the correct term was "Bus Público," but
that isn't right either. "Public Bus" means public ownership, not that
they're used by the public. Chicken buses are privately owned.
Continuing on...
5. Got a seat in the back of the shuttle, and as the bus headed out of
town, we picked up an indigenous family, the women wearing traditional
clothing. The grandmother (as I imagine she was) wished me a good
morning, then crossed herself as we accelerated around the first
corner. She had good reason, as during the course of the 3-hour ride to
Quiché, at least three people on the fan threw up from motion sickness,
as a result of overly aggressive driving. The driver would take the van
into a corner the way you're supposed to brace a kayak sideways into an
oncoming wave--throw your body violently in the opposite direction from
which the kayak would otherwise roll. In this case, I'm not sure that
the bracing made any difference, except for entertainment value. He
also spent the whole ride either (a) giving king, fatherly advice to the
young boy, a passenger, sitting in the front seat, about how to become a
micro driver, or (b) making wisecracks about the people throwing up in
back ("¡Ay! Bastante negocio hoy.)
6. Changed vehicles in Quiché. I was hoping to pick up a direct bus to
Quetzaltenango (Xela) from Quiché, but the bus had just left, and it was
going to be a while until the next one, so I hopped on a bus to
Guatemala city, planning to get off at Los Encuentros junction, where I
would switch to a Xela-bound bus (hopefully direct from there).
7. It worked. My switch went fine, although getting my backpack out of
the luggage bin on the inside of the bus--probably the least secure
place to put it (but the driver and bus "helper" insisted)--was more
than a little chaotic, though I don't think I caused any bumps or
bruises (¡Jesús! Would it have killed those guys to put it on the
roof?) Although I got totally turned around in Encuentros, I found the
correct spot to pick up the Xela-bound bus (only had to ask four
people!) and with the help of a Guatemalan guy headed my way, made it on
the bus fine. Didn't even lose by backpack (and it got put on the roof
for the second leg!)
8. On the Xela bus, I was crammed in, three to a seat, between a
college student falling asleep on my right shoulder, and a guy hawking
traditional Guatemalan sweets falling asleep on my left shoulder. The
sweets looked and smelled fabulous (it was mid-afternoon by this time,
and I was starving), but I could all but see the amoebic dysentery
crawling around on them.
9. Upon arriving in Xela (thankfully without having to change buses
again), I got off at the "Minerva" terminal, made it through the market
without knocking anybody over with my backpack. Caught another
micro--this one a Xela local--to take me to the center (bus terminal's
probably two miles from the center of town), and although the guy taking
money told me he was going to charge me twice for me and my backpack, I
only had to pay a single fare when the time came. Before I got in the
micro, a taxi driver pointed me to the stop, but tried to sell me a taxi
ride instead, as "Micros stop over there, but a taxi ride is faster and
more comfortable." I told him, "Yes, but I don't have the money for a
taxi," at which he replied, "I'll just take your credit card!" Then he
gave a big belly laugh that made me chuckle myself.
10. Got off near the park, where I found a hotel room at one of Xela's
overpriced, dark and cheerless hotels (but it's a place to stay, and
I'll find something nicer tomorrow.)
11. And got dinner at my favorite restaurant here--pretty good food
with passable coffee--and got on their internet for about an hour.
12. Finally, wandered around Xela for about 45 minutes looking for a
place that sold Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi before heading back to the hotel
room.
A pretty full day!
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