Chicken Bus on Market Day

Yesterday I took advantage of the chance to take my spanish class on the road and signed up for a trip to visit the San Francisco market. It enables me to visit another place in Guatemala without spending a great deal of time on the bus to and from. So many of the more touristy trips involve long hauls of eight or more hours on the bus.

The chicken bus is a common sight in Guatemala -- easily recognized as a U.S. school bus painted in bright colors, typically with a number of Biblical references on it, loaded on the top with bundles of purchased or soon to be sold merchandise, and inside crammed as full of people as possible. It takes about three people, typically young guys to navigate a chicken bus through the streets of Guatemala. One drives while the other two jump on and off the chicken bus directing the driver or other traffic out of the way. Now it is important to note that it is common to have three adults trying to sit in each seat, which means two of them are partially on the seat and partially filling the aisle with their bodies. In addition there are other people standing in the aisles between all of these people. Thankfully we got on the bus in both directions early and were able to secure full seats. Unlike the mini vans in Xela which collect payment when you get to your stop, on the chicken bus one of the guys helping navigate also collects payment during the journey. It is impressive to watch him slide his body between those crammed in the aisle, often using handrails built into the ceiling of the bus to monkey bar his way from one end of the bus to the other, making change and somehow remember all who have already paid.

Guatemalans are accustomed to this mode of transportation and seem to take it in stride. Those sitting on the outside of each seat spend a good deal of time moving up and down as people attempt to make their way onto the bus or off the bus at each stop. Even sitting in the center of a seat, I was regularly smashed against the person on the inside as people pushed their way through the bus. It is definitely not a place for anyone who has personal space issues! While all of this movement was occuring, there were also women breastfeeding their babies, friends engaged in conversation, and food vendors offering their wares. And to top it all off the bus drivers found it necessary to blast music as loud as possible throughout the bus. One of the teachers traveling with us asked them to turn it down a couple of times. I felt like I was living in the residence hall again with a freshman (typically male) who felt the need to share his music with extra base for anyone within a three block radius.

The market in San Francisco on Fridays is large and varied, although, it does not offer the artisan products sold in Chichicastenago. First we walked through the entire market to the very top where an animal market was in progress. Pigs, fowl, dogs, calves, and more were tied, caged and leashed everywhere we looked. Prices were negotiated with the owners directly just like any other stall in the market. My teacher wanted me to get my photo taken holding the leases for a herd of pigs which were only about six weeks old (another student had done this), however, I conveyed to here that pigs were not such a novelty in my life. The most surprising moments were coming up behind women in other parts of the market and realizing there were recently bought live turkeys sticking out of their bags.

Being that I have several weeks left in Guatemala, I was not much interested in purchasing anything at the market. This made it easy to follow the teachers around who took advantage of this free trip to San Francisco -- each of the students participating had to pay the travel expenses of their teachers. It wasn't much, 24 quetzales roundtrip, less than four dollars U.S. Some of the most impressive items were the handmade cloth, embroidered shirts, and woven shawls in an array of colors and designs. Ria told me she has one of the shirts framed and hanging in her bedroom in Holland, which would be about the only thing one could do with it. They are beautiful, but not practical for life at home.

The sights and smells of the market are enticing and revolting. Bags of bulk spices, beans, and grains; baskets of mangoes, bananas, pineapple, papaya, melons, and more; the vibrants colors of cloth, rope, hats, and every household item imaginable surrounded by raw meat not on ice and fish -- fresh, salted, dried, and cured in a variety of spices. And then their is what I like to refer to as the market kitchen. Freshly made tortillas, roasted chicken, deep fried potatoes (probably the safest thing for expats to eat), beverages made of corn on the cob, fruit drinks, and more.

A visit to the market is a traveling must. It's the life of the people, reminding me both of all we've lost and all we've gained.