Caballos y Camionetas

Transportation here in Guatemala is very different than what most Americans are used to. While it's very common to own your own car in the US, here most people rely on public transportation. That transportation takes on different forms, depending on where you live. Buses that travel longer distances are generally refurbished Blue Bird school buses from the US, called "camionetas". I take these buses when I travel to the Peace Corps office, or travel pretty much anywhere further than an hour from my site. Although they are big, they are almost always very crowded: three people to a two person seat (not including children, of course) is normal. When Claudia came to visit, she commented on what she called the "keystone effect" of camionetas. This occurs when all the seats on the bus are full to capacity, but there are still more people who must sit down. Often these latecomers end up getting only a cheek's worth of sitting space, which is pretty darn uncomfortable. With the crazy way that people drive here, coupled with the curvy, bumpy roads, it's often hard to keep from falling off your perch. However, if you're perched half on a seat and half in the aisle, and another unfortunate traveler ends up with the equivalent perch in the seat next to you, something magical happens: you can no longer fall into the aisle! This last person to sit down becomes the "keystone", thus holding all six or seven people in place, despite the fact that two are halfway suspended over the aisle. The fact that I usually never know the sweaty people holding me in place, who are often sweaty or holding crying babies, well, it just makes the traveling experience all the more interesting.

Another fun (or at least entertaining, when it's not downright annoying) part of riding on camionetas is that at every stop vendors get on selling all kinds of things: water, soda, nuts, fried plantain chips, hard candy, ice cream (that mysteriously never seems to melt), cake, fruit, and even complete meals including tortillas and stuffed peppers or fried chicken. If you're not hungry, don't worry, you might just get the chance to buy a little whiteboard with Disney princesses on it, a pencil topped with a heart that lights up when you write, medicine that reputedly cures everything, or a book of jokes or ghost stories. There are even evangelicals that will spend five to fifteen minutes preaching to all the passengers, or beggars asking for money to cure their mysterious illnesses.


Now when it comes to my village, we're quite lucky to have a nice paved road. It's very, very windy, as it drops 1,030 meters (3,379 feet) in about 8.5 miles west to Colis, and 1,270 meters (4,166 feet) in the hour drive east to Jalapa. They only finished paving the road two years ago, but since then there has been constant transportation through my village. There are two bus companies, each with about 15 buses, that drive back and forth between Colis and Jalapa from 5am-6pm every day. Now when I say bus, I actually mean a 14 passenger van. They are referred to as "micro buses" here. And although they are meant to fit 14 people, I've ridden in vans packed with as many as 30 people. As you can see from the picture, when the van gets full, they just tell people to climb on top, or to stand on the ladder on the back. Luckily, nobody has told me to do that yet. (I don't think Peace Corps would approve). While these vans aren't usually in the best of repair, they are always decked out in all kinds of tacky stickers, have little handmade wooden benches for when the normal seats get full, and have killer stereo systems so that duranguense music is always blasting. (If you've never heard of duranguense, just google Los Tigres del Norte).

Though most people in my community rely on the micro buses, some have their own transportation. The most common vehicle is a 1985 Toyota Tacoma pickup truck. That's what my host dad drives. It amazes me how they keep those trucks running, but even more that they can fit so many people in them. Twenty five people can easily fit in the tiny bed of one of those pickups. Add another five in front and you've got an even thirty. (I'm including children of course, but still. That's a lot). Now if you don't have a truck, the next level down would be a motorcycle or dirt bike, and then a bicycle. (All ridden without helmets, of course). But my favorite popular form of transportation here is, of course, the horse. They're ridden, used to carry sacks of broccoli or fertilizer, bundles of firewood.

Speaking of horses, there was a "carrera de cintas" today after church as a fundraiser for the confirmation class. Between two tall posts they hung a rope, just above head level of the riders. On the rope they tied a bunch of small rings with a red ribbon. Then the "caballeros" (horsemen) took turns riding between the posts and trying to snatch a ring. But the tricky part is that they could only use a pen to grab the ring. I was pretty convinced that it was impossible, but amazingly enough there were some guys that were really good at it! But they told me that that is the only kind of horse race that they do here. Hmmmm, I think it would be fun to teach them some gymkhana events- egg and spoon race, ride a buck, etc.

Ok, I think I've rambled on enough for today. Nine days till NY!