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Published: August 16th 2010
Martina got to Guatemala City this morning we had a lovely cab driver who called himself Louie and lived in the United States on three separate occasions. The hotel we are staying in called him for me, and on the way to the airport he agreed to hang around with me while I waited for Martina's flight. On the ride back he asked Martina a million questions about Ireland and England, and aswered our million questions about "Guate."
Martina was starving and the maid was cleaning our room when we arrived at the Hotel Pan American. First we tried the famed Central American fast food chain Pollo Compero, but Martina was not satisfied with the selection of side dishes. Disappointed and still hungy we walked back toward our the Pan American on Calle 9, and heard a rythmic clapping sound coming from an open air shop, with no sign.
By North American standards the place was dirty, and as we ascended the two or three steps from the street Martina turned to me and asked "Are we gonna get sick?" I probably did not answer but if I had I probably would have said "yes". Having spent a fair
amount of time in Central America, I know that a certain amount of diarrhea is just par for the ruta. Most likely I did not answer because this place looked worth it.
There were 4 girls and one women standing around a circular grill on the right making tortillas by the dozen which is done by slapping the circular balls of dough flat, with the same motion one might make a hambuger though as we would come to find out takes much more skill. There was also another young girl standing at a rectagular grill making pupusa. There was one girl in particular who seemed to be as interested in us, as we were in the tortilla making process. As I took out my camera she pointed to herself immediately and reveled in me taking her picture, as I would imagine someone may have one hundred years ago, when the act was not as casual and as common as it is to us. She was beautiful, they all were, two were shy including the one who they jokingly called "chinita".
We spent a wonderful hour with this, my "calle" Spanish and Martina's "collegio" Spanish, being augmented by a
guatemelteco customer who like Louie lived in gringo land. They taught us to make tortillas (or at least attempted to), and we ate pupusas prepared by Ingrid, the prettiest of the six who manned the rectagular grill in the doorway.
But that is not what made the day. What made the day was going down the calle to get the pictures printed out and bringing them back to the girls. By their reaction to the camera, and to the photos, I wonder if they ever possessed a photo of themselves. They were literally jumping up and down when we returned with the pictures.
Later when we passed and saw them selling the tortillas through the wroght iron covered window, they smiled and waved excitedly at us.
People ask me all the time "why don't you stay in resorts?" That would be example #1 from this trip.
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Lynda
non-member comment
Seen any of Lauryn's relatives yet!! Glad you are having a good time and can't wait to read more!