My first visit to Zunil

...well, not strictly my first visit _ever_

I went out to Zunil once last summer, as part of a day trip out to the
Fuentes Geoginas--a local hot springs.

I was talking to earlier this evening, telling her about the experience,
but it's one of those things that I will never be able to express
clearly--one of the reasons why I started in to studying Comparative
Politics, but one of those experiences that will always be lacking in
some ways, because I won't be able to express it clearly to others.

As I told Emily, I came home last summer from my language training down
here with a couple hundred pictures of beautiful, pastoral landscapes,
political signage, stunning colonial-era architecture, and almost no
pictures of people.

I also had not a single picture of myself--all of the pictures of me up
on my web page had to come from somewhere else, since I didn't bother to
have anyone take my picture when I was here.

The same thing is going to happen this summer.

I'm not traveling with anyone, so there's nobody to take my picture.
Further, it's difficult to get pictures of people here. There are two
typical photo subjects--little kids (Guatemalan kids may be the cutest
ever) and people in indigenous garb. But you can't take pictures of
little kids, lest some locals fear that you're taking pictures to sell
their kids abroad (travelers often make light of these fears, but
Guatemala has a large problem with human trafficking) and you often
can't take pictures of the local people, either, because they're very
sensitive, for whatever reason...

So I'll be coming home with landscapes.

But I rode the Chicken Bus out to Zunil today, going through the village
of Almolonga, stopping for twenty minutes to allow a funeral procession
to pass--hundreds of men in their Sunday best (suit jackets and cowboy
hats) and hundreds of women in bright red huipiles--traditional women's
blouses--beautifully woven or embroidered, with hand-woven ribbons in
their hair.

After the procession passed, we drove on through a stunning mountain
valley where even the steep sides of the mountains are covered with
plots of vegetables growing.

In Zunil, I got off the bus, and walked up to the main plaza, passing
the beautiful colonial-era church on the way, and headed into the
municipal building, where I interviewed the mayor and municipal forestry
officer, before wandering around town and getting a few pictures.

Along the way, I passed through the market, where women and men were
selling locally woven clothing, vegetables, and every imaginable product
a Guatemalan farmer could need, from fertilizer to bedroom furniture.

And then on the way back to the bus, I crossed over the river on a
bridge right above a public washing-fountain, where women were washing
clothes by hand, in pools of volcanically-warmed water coming out of a
hot spring besides the river.

All through the day, the mountains were coming in and out of the clouds,
with the clouds sometimes reaching the ground and becoming fog, and
everywhere I walked were local men going to or coming from their fields,
carrying machetes, hoes, and sacks of crops or fertilizer.

I know that my description doesn't even come close to capturing the feel
of the place... the sights, sounds and smells--but I hope that I can
someday express some portion of this experience to my students...