An active volcano.

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Antigua, 12 febrero 1990.

Where the mexicans would queue up before entering the bus, these local indios here in Guatamala make a mad rush for the bus doors pushing each other out of the way and fighting over a free seat the moment the bus enters the bus depot. Not just the men but even the women their babies hanging on a sling on their backs.
I saw one little brown indio baby head nearly being squashed between the iron door post and mummy's back.
Needless to say I wasn't very happy with James' decision to leave the mad struggle for free seats to me. Once the mayhem is settled and everybody is seated, chicken and pigs under the seats, babies suckling indio breasts, I finally have the time to take in the khaleidoscope of colors and sounds that surround us.
In this heck of the woods in each village the women use their own embroidery design on their huipiles, I've bought a book that explains it all and do my best to extinguish the different color and designs.
The bus is full with the chatter of people but we are the only gringos on board so it's all in quetchua, not a language I speak.
The stench in this bus is overwhelming, a combination of stale human body odours and pig shit, sweat that has gathered on human bodies that have not seen a bath for weeks.
it's hot in this bus and despite the wind blowing in from outside, we're soon covered in sweat ourselves.
James is more interested in his "Darwin, the origin of species" than bothering me so I change my attention to the passing landscape outside. We're reaching Antigua, the old capital of Guatamala which is surrounded by three volcanoes, one still active:

Volvan Fuego at 3763 m. altitude

Volcan Agua at 3760 m. altitude

Volcan Acatenango at 3976 m. altitude.

I've no doubt about the active one, must be Volcan Fuego which has got a huge plume of smoke coming from its top. My first active volcano, I feel happy.

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