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Published: June 22nd 2006
The weekend started the usual way, 4.45 Quetzal Trekkers HQ. Eager clients, frazzled guides, a 10 minute ride to Minerva with Victor.
Victor is a softly spoken Guatemalan pick-up driver, our main man, Minerva is Xela's biggest bus terminal dominated by a grandiose Parthenon like structure, one of many constructed by a past dictator whose headless statue graces one of our local parks.
Our ride with Victor is a fun way to start a trip, hanging on the back of a pick-up zooming through the early morning streets. The only other people about are shady figures setting off fire crackers in doorways, their silhouettes exposed by sparks of gunpowder. The rumour mill suggests this is a friendly birthday custom, but on edge clients still start.
This weekend is different however, Penny and I are sneaking off. With busy times ahead it is time for a romantic getaway and some retail therapy. While the others led by guides Igor (Basque) and Jeff (States) board the San Marcos bus we wander away calling "Chichi".
Chichi or Santo Tomas Chichicastenango is famous for its Sunday Market, one of the biggest and most colourful in all of the Americas. It is
in the heartland of the Quiches people who were dominant in Guatemala before the arrival of Alvarado and his conquistadores. The Quiche warrior/prince Tecun Uman was slain by Alvarado near Xela in the mid sixteenth century ensuring his rise into the Maya pantheon.
Failing to find a direct bus to Chichi we jumped on a bus to Los Encuentros (the crossroads) a major junction on the Guatemala City route. There are chicken buses and chicken buses, gaudy and plain, empty and full (usually the later), ones with good drivers and ones with bad. This one had a very bad driver. We started off by nearly hitting a truck as we careered across an intersection and proceeded to hoon our way accross the country, it was ugly and we were glad to get off.
From Los Encuentros a mini-van took us to Chichi down pine covered valleys past processions of Mayans in traditional outfits known as "traje". Apparently one can distinguish where a person is from by the traje they wear, which may tell the story of their people, a worn woven wharenu painstakingly reproduced. I can't tell Jack from Jill but the fabric is stunningly complex and beautiful.
As we sat down for breakfast, the procession arrived in town, burning candles and incense and scattering pine needles in their wake. Mayan customs are well and truly alive in Guatemala and are perhaps in resurgence after the years of trouble. A friend of ours recently consulted a Mayan priest living in the hamlet of Momostenango whom she found by reading the lonely planet!
The mix of Catholic with Mayan rituals is fascinating. The procession proceeded to the steps of the church where a fire was lit, offerings made and firecrackers let off. The bells tolled and people went inside to the sounds of traditional hymns. Ronald Wright in his book "Time Among the Maya" talks much of the complex relationship between church and paganism. He details cycles of repression and tolerance which are exemplified by the story of Pascual Abaj
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Photo from Bus!
