Lessons from a chicken bus

My first week here has quickly come and gone. I have seen and experienced so much, and there is still so much to do. I am trying to drink in as much Guatemalan culture as possible while still spending an ample amount of time at the orphanage. This leads to late nights and early mornings… which, mixed with this freezing weather we’ve been having, has led to a bit of a cold. Not to deter me in the slightest, however haha. I’m not sure why, but I thought that it would be fairly warm here (80s) and didn’t think to pack too warm of clothes. I fit all of my things in my carry-bag, so it only amounts to a couple pairs of capris, a couple skirts and a couple pairs of shorts with a handful of t-shirts. Last minute I decided to throw in 2 long sleeves and a windbreaker, all of which have been lifesavers. It rains almost every afternoon, which I had expected. However, when it rains it cools down SIGNIFICANTLY… this I had not expected. Needless to say, this weekend I’m going to head to the market to find myself some pants and a sweater. I saw a few locals wearing winter coats today… I’m sure they think I’m a fool every time I get on the chicken bus.

Speaking of the chicken bus, that has been full of adventures in and of itself. I never knew so many people could fit into a school bus! On my first day, I was warned to stay within the first couple seats, otherwise you inevitably get pushed to the back and have to struggle to get off the bus. You didn’t have to tell me twice… I am a front-rower every day (as are the other 3 people who share my seat). Human sardines. It’s only 5Q each way, however, which amounts to less than $1 for an hour ride, so I can’t complain too much :)

Each morning I walk about a mile to a street where the buses pass heading to Chimal and various other towns. The buses roll slowly around the corner while a man leans out the door shouting the destination. Once you hear your town, you quickly jog to the door and jump on… sometimes they stop, sometimes they don’t. Lesson 1: Pay attention and wave your arms so they know you want on. Lesson 2: While on the first step, ask the driver if he’s going where you want to go for sure (for me, this is Alameda). Lesson 3: Only take buses with men shouting, “Chimal y Parramos.” Lesson 3 was more difficultly learned. On Wednesday, I followed lesson 1 and lesson 2 flailing my arms and shouting, “ALAMEDA!”. However, the driver hesistated when I said, “Alameda,” and then followed with “ahhh, si Alameda, si.” For future reference, this is clue number 1 that the bus does indeed NOT go to Alameda haha. My surroundings out the window quickly became unfamiliar and after an hour I was the only person left on the bus. We were in the middle of a large town and the man started shouting, “Antigua”… uhh, this means I’m headed back to where I came from, and I never passed my stop. He spotted my confusion in the overhead mirror and told me that I should get off the bus. I argued a bit about the fact that this was NOT Alameda, but to no avail. Whelp, time to ask someone where I am and where I need to go. A kind lady in a bakery was patient enough to sit through my string of broken-Spanish questions and gave me directions for a tuk-tuk (aka the Reliant Robin of Guatemala for those of you who watch Top Gear). My ride this morning ended up costing much more than it should have (a whopping $3 more because I let the tuk-tuk driver over-charge me. I just needed to get to the orphanage and didn’t feel like arguing.) Too much excitement before 8:00 am. Thank goodness I know enough Spanish to get me by, or I would have been having a heart attack. I also now know that I do not need to return to Chimal. It’s a bit more rough than my beautiful Antigua. It was probably good for me to see it though. 

One of the fierce machines

The tuk-tuks move so fast!

The Guatemalan Reliant Robin. Careful around corners!

 Anyway… back to my lessons from the chicken bus. Lesson #4: If you squeeze in tight enough, it is possible to sit hovered in the aisle and not fall to the floor. This means spanning approximately 9 persons across. Lesson #5: You are not a local. You will never be a local. Nothing makes me feel more like Godzilla than entering a small school bus packed with petite Guatemalans. Lesson #6: This may look like a school bus, but the driver works for NASCAR; this is a race, not a ride. The faster they drive, the more people they pick up. The more people they pick up, the more money they make. Lesson #7: Hold onto the handlebar provided. Similar to the Scrambler, those on the inside get squished around corners and they do not appreciate full body weight. An irritated abuelita explained this to me as I unknowingly crushed her on a sharp mountain curve; inconsiderate Godzilla. Lesson #8: Those purple spots on your knees are just bruises. These seats weren’t made for people above 5’2”. Your growing hair from not shaving in the freezing shower should quickly cover them; do not worry. Lesson #9: Do not breathe upon exiting the bus. The plume of black smoke is sure to kill you. I discovered this when I blew my nose and it looked as though I had been working in a coal mine. Lesson #10: This is an equal opportunity ride. All are allowed with the appropriate amount of quetzals… gringos, chickens, large rolls of fresh cow hide, etc. WARNING: Do not ride if you suffer from claustrophobia, motion sickness, or a keen sense of smell. Do ride, however, if you suffer from a small bank account like myself. You wouldn’t get the full cultural experience without riding the chicken bus. Despite my complaints, I actually don’t mind it. It’s much better than the mutatus of Uganda.

The bus terminal behind the market

Eyes open at all times or you will be run over!

Do not be deceived by the lack of persons on this bus. It filled up, we were just early. My new friend Donna is thrilled for her first experience in Pastores!

My view for 2 hours/day.