Into Guatemala

Belize seemed like a transit stop on my way to the real meat of my trip - Spanish speaking Latin America. As my bus climbed the hills toward the Guatemalan border, I could feel shift in the language gradient. By the time I reached the capital - Belmopan - I started seeing the first street side signs in Spanish. I fell asleep for a while, and then by the time I woke up, everyone I had boarded the bus with had gotten off and an entirely new group of people were crowded into the small leather seats - all of them speaking Spanish. The transition was that fast.

The border was as much of a border as any other border I've crossed -- two countries, two sets of customs assholes trying to rip you off. I got through fairly quickly and was only forced to spend three dollars bribing my way to the Guatemalan side. I dodged the hawkers like a pro, and I avoided paying three times as much as a should have for transportation. Instead of hopping in a cab or private minibus like all the other helpless tourists, I walked across the muddy, dilapidated bridge separating the two countries and wandered into a small, very non-English speaking town that was infinitely more sunny and colorful than the Belize side. I found a nice old woman in a convenience store and decided to try my luck at asking about public transportation in Spanish. Naturally, it started to come out in Chinese, but I stopped myself before she noticed, and I found out that there were frequent shared buses to my destination that only cost $4 for the three hour trip rather than the $20 the other guys were asking.

I waited at the gas station across the street and sent my last few text messages home while I could still pick up the phone signal from Belize. The rain clouds that had covered the sky all morning disappeared as soon as I got to Guatemala, and the sun illuminated the vibrantly painted buildings at the peaceful intersection where I waited for a ride. Two young Guatemalans wearing cowboy hats and cowboy boots waited with me quietly. No one seemed to notice me. It was really nice to see local life going on around me without any regard for the occasional tourist passing through. On my other travels, I would have had a crowd of people gathered around me either asking for money, smiling, or staring me down. None of that here - just happy Guatemalans doing happy Guatemalan things.

A small red van pulled up about ten minutes later, and a stubby young guy with a bright smile and a cowboy hat hopped out and ran around to open the side door. The two guys that were waiting with me hopped in, and the driver looked at me and said "¿Flores?" I responded, "no - El Remate." He said "yeah sure, I can swing by there too. It'll be 4 bucks." I hopped in and we sped down the bumpy dirt road toward my next stop - the base from which I would explore the main Mayan ruins at Tikal. The drive was stunningly beautiful, and it brought back generic memories of driving down beautiful roads in tropical countries all over Asia. Lots of dirt, lots of jungle, lots of cows, lots of sundried leathery locals. I'm starting to realize how much developing countries have in common. The building materials are of the same low quality, life is universally rough, simple pleasures keep people entertained, naked kids are part of life, and people burn everything. The main thing that distinguishes the different societies is the way they react to their poverty. To look at a pair of polar opposites: Thais take life lightly and are constantly smiling and laughing - Indians are drowning in the misery of their filth. Guatemalans, luckily, belong to the happy category.

As we drove on, we ended up stuffing a total of 25 people into the van (not exaggerating). A grandmother, her three grandchildren, an infant, and their dog all shared my lap for a good half of the trip. I didn't care though - Guatemalans are friendly, and they got a big kick out of the awkward gringo they were crushing. Eventually, the driver yelled back to me "oh yeah, weren't you going to El Remate? I passed it." He put the van into reverse and backed up about 20 meters before giving up and hopping out to open the door and pull me through the 15 people sitting between me and the fresh air. I paid him and asked what to do next. He told me to walk in the direction we had come from, and eventually I'd find what I was looking for. "Actually," he changed his mind, "just hitchhike with the next van that drives by. It'll be easier."

I wasn't tired, it was absolutely beautiful out, and I was in the mood for an adventure - so I just decided to walk. I did eventually stumble upon a road sign that pointed me in the right direction, and I found my way to El Remate - a beautiful lakeside village on the road to Tikal. I happened upon a cliffside hotel with outdoor bungalows overlooking the lake. For 3 dollars, I spent the night under the stars on a comfy mattress with a mosquito net, and I awoke refreshed the next morning to roosters and the sunrise.

Next up - Tikal, the Mayan ruins.