Seeing one in operation is an amazing feat. First you are greeted by the dull rumble of a slightly broken down diesel engine, wildly careening around the corners of the pothole filled mountain roads on nearly bald tires. Then as the chicken bus swings into view you are shocked by the new paint job. Gone is the awful, boring, standard yellow of America; in it's place is a bright, loud and sometimes garish mash of reds, yellows, purples, greens accented with additional decorative lights and topped off with a brand new fog horn capable of warning passengers (and other cars) for miles around of it's imminent arrival. As it rolls up at your feet, a young man hurriedly launches himself out of the door that he had already been hanging mostly out of, scrambles to the top of the bus where he grabs your backpacks that you offer up to him and jams them into any remaining space available on top of the bus. Meanwhile, the bus driver is excitedly ushering you on board the bus that has never really come to a complete halt, gesticulating to you to find a seat in the back somewhere while he throws the bus back into gear, resuming his wild decent.
It's also important to understand that these buses have no true definition of full. Even with the benches packed six across with bags and passengers poking from every crevice, you are expected to find a seat. If not, the porter who has now swung into the bus from on top of the luggage rack while the bus is in motion will gladly point you to a place that you should go--even if there is someone already there. And wherever you finally decide to stand (or sit if you're lucky) be sure to brace yourself adequately as the bus driver's only concern is getting to the next stop as fast as he can. If a truck full of hogs for the market is in the way, he'd better watch out. A school bus can be more than a bit menacing when driven by a half crazed driver on a narrow mountain road. And if you were ever fretting as to where your stolen car radio goes, you can now rest in peace--I've found them. They are haphazardly wired to these whirling masses of motion happily blaring the local polka/tejano-esque music to the crushed chicken bus passengers.
After a long and not so pleasant evening spent hopping on and off chicken buses from the border of Mexico, we finally arrive in the peaceful mountain Town of Quetzaltenango, called Xela (She-la) by the locals. The only downside of this little town is that it's the coldest place in Guatemala. Which is a bit frustrating to me, since one of my ideas for this trip was to avoid winter for a year--not end up in a place consistently colder than Texas.
However, Xela does boast of some fantastic hiking opportunities which we happily partook of . After a couple of weeks wandering around colonial towns of Mexico, it was truly wonderful to break up the monotony of seeing city after city and to be able to stretch our legs over a few mountain peaks. But first we had to relax and decompress a bit. And what better way to do that than to visit the nearby natural hot springs of Fuentes Georginas? Ahhh... Almost like good Japanese Onsen. Piping hot and incredibly relaxing. Just perfect after a grueling day of buses.
The first peak that we tackled bright and early the next morning was a little one called Santa Maria that overlooked Xela. But the true reason for hiking this one was the views of the active volcano on the other side. After beginning our ascent at 5 in the morning and hiking up through the clouds to the summit we were greeted by the unique and slightly disconcerting sight of a volcano erupting before our eyes. Totally worth freezing my butt off climbing my way up there in the darkness of morning.
And the best part was that our guide had a soccer game to play that afternoon and invited me to tag along since he knew I had played before and loved soccer. So that afternoon, at high altitude, I got to play a game of soccer at a brand new pro soccer stadium in Guatemala on a team with a couple of professional players. Needless to say, I was bit tired that evening--but smiling from ear to ear.
The next day we woke up early at 4 am to catch the bus to our next mountain to climb: Tacamulco, highest volcano in Central America. We had signed up with a large group of trekkers for this trip because the mountain had been closed for the past 9 months due to safety concerns. This was going to be much more challenging climb since we were going to overnight a few hundred feet below the looming peak and ascend at 3:30 am for the sunrise. At first I was not looking forward to another ridiculously early morning, but after watching the sunset that evening near the top of Tacamulco I was stoked.
And rightfully so. Even though I was a human popsicle after waiting for the sun to come up that morning, it was worth it. By far one of the best sunrises I've ever seen; in the distance you could see a volcano erupt next to the rising sun with a cloud covered valley slowly revealing itself below.
Guatemala was off to a great start!
Next up: Much needed Spanish lessons and roasting marshmallows over lava.
Update Now with a few pictures! There're all (wayyyy to many) stored here.
Holding the erruption:
Goofing off during the sunset:
Trish one upping me:
Sunrise in the Morning:
Sunrise with Volcano:
Hiking down after the Sunrise
Me goofing off at the top (note the sadow of the mountain to the left) :
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