Discovering Guatemala
As we descended through towering clouds into Guatemala City, I was greeted with the sight of endless, rolling, green hills and towns nestled into valleys or sitting on hilltops. The urban sprawl looked much like it does in the US: a grid of concrete and asphalt. We flew lower and I could see neighborhoods of concrete apartments, colorfully painted and roofed with corroded, corrugated metal.
After we landed, Andrea’s uncle and cousin picked us up from the airport. As we left the parking lot, I noticed that the security guard had a shotgun slung over his shoulder. This made me feel a little uneasy at first, but as we approached him he smiled and waved us through. I soon realized that this was a common sight. Many businesses have guards that stand at their entrances, usually carrying a shotgun or at least a holstered pistol. Again, this was unnerving at first, but when I saw that they responded to kindness with a smile and would in turn hold a door open for you, my mind was more at ease.
The drive to our apartment was a little tense for me. From my perspective, the flow of traffic was chaotic: cars swerving into the oncoming lane to circumvent slower vehicles, mopeds and motorcycles darting between lanes. Stop lights are universally obeyed, but stop signs are treated as though they say ‘yield’. Despite the apparent chaos, we never witnessed an accident nor even saw the aftermath of one. It seemed that when drivers took risks, they did so in a calculated manner and if they encountered an unforeseen vehicle, that vehicle would be quick to react.
We arrived at our destination unscathed. This was the house where Andrea’s mom and her siblings grew up. The house has stayed in the family and has been subdivided into apartments to accommodate each sibling’s family. Because of the creative subdivisions, or space is oddly shaped, but it met our short-term needs. We spent about a week settling in, and visiting Andrea’s relatives.
Andrea's mom's childhood home is the white and brown one near the end of the street. Her family has been living there since the proyecto was built in the 1960s!
Her uncle owns a catering business so our meals were taken care of, and they are delicious. It didn’t take much effort to adapt to Guatemalan cuisine. Breakfast usually consists of eggs, black beans, and platanos (fried plantains). For lunch, we would often have tamales (pork or chicken inside a pocket of masa, coated with salsa, and wrapped in a banana leaf) or chuchitos, which are a mini-tamal made in a corn husk. We’ve had a variety of dinners, such as stews, beef with rice, dobladas (fried tacos), and chiles rellenos (fried chiles stuffed with meat and vegetables). Almost every meal included a hot stack of fresh tortillas or bread rolls purchased from a small tienda (store/shop) just down the street.
Just one of the many delicious meals we've had. This is a doblada (on top), and a taco, both filled with meat and veggies, fried, and topped with a simple salsa, cheese, parsley and onion slices.
I walked with Andrea and her cousin one day to purchase tortillas. The tienda was indistinguishable from the other apartments. As we walked past brightly colored homes, they suddenly stopped in front of what seemed to be just a hole in the wall. It was a window, through which I could hear the soft clapping sound of the women inside forming masa into little disks to cook on their flat stove. We bought a stack of maybe twenty tortillas for five quetzales. I was surprised by the low cost of local, handmade food. One US dollar equals approximately Q.7 (Seven quetzales). We had bought a sizable stack of fresh tortillas for less than a dollar!
This is a reality that I feel odd about. If you go to an American restaurant in Guatemala, Little Caesars for example, a pizza will equate to about the same price as it does in the US (Q.40 for a regular pepperoni pizza, or about $5). But if you go to a local family tienda or comedor (dining room), you’ll pay a fraction of the price for quality handcrafted food. The same goes for appliances and household items.
It quickly made sense to me why so many Guatemalans live in poverty. Labor is cheap, but commodities are expensive. I’m not an economist, so I can’t explain why this is the case or how to fix it. All I can say is that seeing this disparity saddens me. I’ve seen Guatemalans at work and they work hard. Their work-day is longer than our typical American work-day and they are often doing intensely laborious tasks.
For example: one day, Andrea’s uncle called Rolando, who has been doing construction projects for him for over a year, to install a window in our apartment for better air circulation. They arrived with their tools and spoke with Andrea’s parents for a few moments. When they were ready to start, we headed next door to Andrea’s uncle’s apartment to stay out of their way. Within two minutes, we could hear that they had already started making the hole in the concrete wall where the window would go. Their expediency impressed me. In two days they had taken measurements, made the hole, contacted a window-maker, and installed the brand new, custom-made window.
In the days leading up to our departure for Guatemala, I was unsure of the reception I would experience. Andrea reassured me that her family was very excited to meet me and had practically already accepted me as part of the family. I didn’t doubt her, but I wasn’t sure what to expect from the public.
Of course, she was right about her family. They have been incredibly welcoming and are eager for me to learn more Spanish so we can have more in depth conversations. As far as I can tell, when we walk down the streets or through shopping malls, I don’t actually attract that much attention. I do get some double takes and brief stares, but the look I see on their faces is not of anger or mistrust but rather of curiosity and maybe slight amusement. I do stand out here. After all, I am a six-foot-four, lean, red-bearded gringo.
While Guatemala is largely foreign to me, it’s not entirely devoid of American influences. Actually, you see influences from many countries present here. On the streets you regularly see little three-wheeled taxis called Tuktuks that are prolific in India. The stoplights usually have a timer that lets you know when the light will change (also, green lights blink before they turn yellow). Roundabouts are also very common. The most prevalent US influence I’ve noticed is fast food. As I mentioned, Little Caesar’s is a thing here (it’s really popular here actually) and there are also Burger Kings, Taco Bells, Pizza Huts, McDonalds’, Applebees’, and T.G.I. Friday’s in most shopping centers.
Like most Central and South American countries, the traditions and culture in Guatemala have heavy European influences. You hear it in the “m-pa-pa, m-pa-pa” beat that is present in local music. You see it in the Catholic churches whose steeples stand over every town. Despite these influences, Guatemala’s culture is still uniquely Guatemalan. You still see indigenous women dressed in vibrant, colorful skirts and blouses (Huipil).
Even Catholic worship is unique in Guatemala. On holidays, a processional float is carried by dozens of citizens who have paid hundreds of quetzales to take part in this tradition. These floats depict the story of the saint’s holiday they commemorate and weigh many tons. We were on our way home one day, and found ourselves stuck in traffic, just to find that it was caused by a procession. It was interesting to see such a grand display just happening in front of a local church. The largest processions happen throughout Holy Week before Easter, and it will be interesting to see more of these parades, hopefully without being stuck in traffic.
During my time here thus far, I’ve seen poverty and pockets of affluence. I’ve seen consumerism and steadfast tradition. I’ve seen the stoic facade of armed guards melt into a warm smile. I’ve seen that Guatemala is not simply a “Third World Country” but a unique nation that is striving to raise up it’s citizens while remaining independent. I can’t wait to get to know this place better.
~ Mitch
