Guatemala the beginning of Central America

And memories of an old friend

Well I survived the night in front of the suspiciously large mirror on the wall, the room with locks on the outside of the doors, and the proprietor carrying around a shot gun as he checked his "guests" in. He was there to greet me as I left, and check the room to make sure I didn't take anything. As I left he just stood their staring, I wasn't going to ask him if there was anything else.....

I was on the road by 6:00 am. I had finally gotten up at 5 and packed and was ready at first light. Little did I know I might as well have slept in. I was not more then a half hour down the road in the morning rush hour (there are some disadvantages to getting on the road early) when I came upon a traffic jam. I had to stop along with everyone else and wait. And wait, and wait, and wait. After about an hour and a half I decided to go see if I could find a bank since I was low on Quetzales (Guatemalan money). I was told it it would only take 4 or 5 hours to cross the country so I didn't change much over, unfortunately both gas and the room were more then I had expected and as it looked I was not going to have much to spare to get across.

An old abandoned VW at the side of the traffic jam

So taking advantage of this traffic jam I went to get something to eat and also look for a bank. For me without speaking Spanish very well, banks have always been hard to locate down here. And really there just isn't that many to begin with and the ones there are are usually buried inside of a town or village with very narrow nameless streets and only hand gestures to guide you from people you ask.

Well I did go into a village, I soon found myself on narrow uneven bricked streets that were crowded. I went a ways, but soon realized I probably wasn't going to find it and I was having a hard time trying to turn around and even come back the way I had come. I did ask one guy but he just pointed back the way I had come and I decided to try to find one later.

I stopped at a family diner (it was a tent tarp over a kitchen with a big fire pit going to cook food with two tables set up for customers) where two young girls were the waitresses. It looked like the dad, mom, and grandmother all worked there as well. The girls giggled that I didn't speak Spanish, and the way my morning was going I really didn't feel like being laughed at as well. You can tell I'm a little sensitive about now.

The father intervened and I pointed to what I wanted, roasted chicken, beans, rice and tortillas, with a bottle of very cold water. I was suddenly in heaven, or at least satisfied. I can eat roasted chicken, rice and beans with tortillas every day. Its a great protein meal, without much fat and just very simple. I used to eat it all the time when I drove a cab in Alaska years ago and worked for a Mexican who owned a restaurant called El Pollo Rollo, or Red Chicken. For five dollars you could have a huge plate of chicken, beans and tortillas, with a coke it was just what I wanted. Here I sat down and had the same thing except with water and was totally happy. The grandmother came over and looked at my bike and smiled. I ate it all and felt good, and of being cooked food I didn't have to worry about any side effects.

For me the big chores of travel on this trip have been finding food that I not only know what it is off of a menu, but is safe and I like. And also as mentioned finding banks to exchange money, sometimes finding gas (not very often), drinkable water, and a decent hotel room. These are like all part of the daily routine that has to be done, and how hard it is to find these things often determines how a big part of my day is going to go.

Well I didn't find the bank but I did find something to eat, and it was really good. And the family was really nice and the whole meal came to about $4. And you know as I'm learning down here. if I had wanted more they would have been glad to give it to me and not charge any extra for it.

Road is still closed, this bus ends up turning around and leaving.

Ok so its been a little over an hour and I go back to my place in the traffic jam and sit again. It has been about three hours now, and there is nothing to do but just sit and wait, and watch the legendary Guatemala buses and vans fly by packed to the brim with people. Mostly young men standing where the open sliding door is on the van because the rest of the van is so full. Then you have the brightly painted old school buses as well. They all go flying up to the head of the line, where ever that is, and then come flying back down blowing their horns the whole way. In Mexico it was the big buses and trucks who drive crazy, here its the smaller local buses. It doesn't matter the situation, how many cars are coming at them, or anything else, they go just as fast as they can and rely on their horn to clear the way. It is crazy, but I came to realize the chances they take, and the way people ride on them and all, its amazing their aren't more accidents then there are. In fact its really a testament to how good of drivers they really are that there aren't more accidents. Its not that their bad drivers, its that their crazy drivers. I really haven't ran into too many bad drivers since I've been down here.

So finally five and a half hours after the jam started, the road opens and we start moving again. This takes half the people by surprise, except me I'm ready to go. Many of them are still way off the road sleeping in their cars or trucks.

The whole time this is happening I'm wondering what could possibly close a road for over 5 hours, it must have been a horrible accident, or perhaps a mudslide, maybe I'll be delayed for days, etc. Well we get up to where it was closed, it looks like there have been fires made across the road in two different places about a hundred yards a part, now there is just ashes left, I drive over them, and thru a bunch of people standing around, and that is it, nothing else. It looks like maybe they had a festival, or celebration or something. I don't know but I am so glad to be moving again. The lines of trucks coming from the other way are miles long.

On the road again in Guatemala

The day turns long and hot, with some bad roads, those never ending speed bumps, and pretty heavy traffic. The drivers here continue to be as aggressive as or even worse then in Mexico. The buses passing, even on corners, coming from the other way are unnerving to say the least. One of them barely misses me going the other way, I had to slow down to let them complete their pass. Another one comes and I have to completely get to the side of the road or get hit. Luckily the shoulder is paved and smooth. If I had not had two hands on the handlebars I think some sort of obscene gesture would have been in order. At this point I think again of Guardian Angels and passed friends who must be looking out for me.

I get to the last big city before the border with El Salvador, Escuintla, and use all my Guatemalan money to fill up my gas tank. It looks like I will have enough gas to get to the border. While getting gas a fellow walks up speaking English and wants to know about my trip. He's from California and spends winters in Guatemala. It is nice to speak some English, and he reassures me that most gas stations do take visa if I need it. I've been trying not to use credit cards because I'm afraid of international charges, but its nice to know.

I make the El Salvador border in an hour or so, the roads are great the traffic light. As usual the conditions change at a moments notice, and what's strange too is the roads are often best, newest and best maintained right by the borders, where most of the countries population doesn't get to use them. I found this true in several countries.

Some local Guatemalans at the river, I waved to them, and they waved back, but I wasn't sure what they were doing.

Ok so I've been without water for awhile now, having been out of Guatemalan money, not wanting to change American. And I know the dollar in El Salvador is one of their currencies, and I'm at the border. Its been a long, hot, dusty and dry day, I've covered all of about a hundred and fifty miles, and I've been up and on the road since 6 a.m. not a blistering pace. All I want is to get thru the border fairly fast and get some water and a place to stay.

A high bluff just before the Guatemalan and El Salvador Border

I get to the border and pay a handler maybe $20 in all to get me thru, another guy a $1, and then ended up waiting nearly two hours to get in. I am so hot and tired, I'm just sitting there sweating and an armed guard is watching me like I might just explode, I'm sort of disgusted at the moment. Finally the guy behind the desk gives me my paper, and I'm done. I pay the handler and I'm off. This was the cheapest and easiest border of them all. They even had a sign on the wall saying not to feel obligated to have someone handle your papers for you. They are more then happy to help tourists. They also gave a number to call if you have problems. I wanted to take a picture of those signs, but wasn't sure how that would be viewed by the guard. I was ready to leave.

As I was driving out into what was now the El Salvadorian night and the last check point into the country, there was a tree, right by the side of the check point and a street light, and there must have been a hundred very large bats, with two feet wing spans flying all over and around this tree, I had to drive right thru them almost they were so low to the ground. It was like they were hunting in a pack or something and were everywhere around us. It didn't seem to be out of the ordinary to any of the border people, just this gringo.

The bike was holding up better then me at times.

I drove about an hour into the night to Acajutla, the nearest place with a hotel and water to the border, and settled down for the night. If there was a day on this trip where I thought about drinking some beers, this was it. But I haven't drank for awhile, and wasn't going to start now. What a day, but I was in El Salvador, one country closer to Costa Rica....

As I got to and passed thru Guatemala, I could not help but think of my old friend Debbie Cole, later to change her name to Debbie Cole Epstein after she married Mike and had Jake and Elijah her two sons. For her friends and family Debbie passed on way too soon, and left a hole in many of our lives when she did.

I met Debbie in Alaska back in 1978 and I always remember her talking about the time she spent in Guatemala, and how much it had affected her. To Debbie I think Guatemala represented so many things she cared deeply about, and gave her passion. Whether it was women's or civil rights, the poor being victimized by the rich, or just the depth and the vibrant colors of a country so different then our own. I think, in a way Guatemala was as much a part of her as Alaska was, where she lived for so long, or maybe even Massachusetts where she spent most of her life.

There's that Indian saying I love so much, it says "there are no goodbye's", and also one that says ,"there's no endings only beginnings". I wonder as that bus came around that corner today and almost ran me off the road if Debbie or even my mother weren't there to lend a helping hand. I don't doubt it, perhaps now they spend their time painting rainbows......