Guatemala: How Many Lives Left?

The first time I squeezed onto a Chicken Bus, I thought I was going to die. Once we gained elevation, speed and hit the curves, I completely forgot about the rusted out holes in the floor. The roads were single track made for small cars, not whomping buses. A sheer wall of stone to the right, and to the left plummeting cliffs dropped down into the jungle below. Even the locals were crossing themselves and sending up Hail Marys. It was hard to tell if people, or their livestock were screaming…or both. A car was coming from the opposite direction and we swerved, teetering around it like some acme cartoon. For a moment I wondered if the buses were painted in their cocky plumage so oncoming traffic could see the florescent blur kilometers ahead.

The woman next to me yelped, “Ay! Dios!” and grabbed at my arm. Careening down the pothole riddled roads most certainly to our deaths, we quickly became acquainted. Her name was Gabriela and she was traveling home to see her family for the kite festival on All Saints Day in Sumpango. La Feria de Barriletes Gigantes. Massive kites, sometimes sixty-five meters tall, are crafted skillfully from bamboo, string, tissues paper and a watery glue. The designs are always full of vibrant colours and detail with long tails of rustling paper meant to scare evil spirits away. The dead are honoured with the flight of the kites. Gabriela explained that she did not like to travel much—our seat was missing a couple of bolts and we slid forward over the hole in the floor—but that she would not miss launching her families kite even if it was the end of the world.

I commended her for her bravery.

Most of my time in Guatemala thus far, when I was not working, was spent walking the city. I loved exploring the alleyways, striking up random conversations with people who always seemed to think I was from Spain, or Argentina—I started to wonder if I had a lisp. Every day without fail, I ended up talking with groups of curious children, some of them would recognize me from the hospital. One month in, and the pulse of the city was becoming real, my conversations deeper, more meaningful. I would wake up to the sound of the a vendor yelling ‘huevos!’ and start my day like any other. Freshly roasted coffee beans from the plantation, fried plantains with toast and huevos.

On a particular Sunday, there was a woman wearing a blindfold, sitting under a yellow and orange umbrella, in the middle of city center. She had a karaoke box set up with the volume on full blast. In one hand she clutched a pink purse, in the other a microphone, and snakes slid around her feet. The woman was prophesying. She did her show, and a thought what an entertaining charlatan. People were fervently handing her money and then she would write down something on a piece of paper, then hand it to them with whispers. Curious, I stopped to watch the exchange. The snakes started sliding my way and I grew a little uncomfortable. Still blind folded, she pointed straight at me. I froze. The Shaman lifted her blindfold and came marching straight over with her cheap plastic pen and note paper. Her eyes were intense. She was definitely not speaking Spanish; it was one of the indigenous Guatemalan languages.
            The woman started scribbling furiously on the paper. A few people stopped and watched her till she was finished. She shoved it at me indicating I needed to take it. She was talking again, and I had no idea what she was saying.
            “She says that is you.” Said one of the curious onlookers.
            I looked down at the scrap of paper in my hand. She had inked out a symbol.
            “What is it?” I asked.
            “It is the animal of death and transformation. The big cat…uhm, Jaguar.”
            “What else did she say?”
            “I don’t know.” The guy shrugged at me. “Something about wolves…or a single wolf. It is hard to say.”
“Wolves?” My ears burned. Jaguars, and wolves had been a motif since I was young. They had both appeared in dreams. Running with packs of wolves, stalking the jungle as a great sinuous black spotted cat. Why both?
“Really, I don’t know…” said the the guy. “She switched dialects.

It sounded important, but to this day…I have no idea what else the lady with the karaoke box, pink purse, and snakes may have told me.

Something strange and bizarre started to happen each week, and with each event I was plunging deeper into life. Working in the maternity ward of a hospital meant I experienced the life, death, life cycle on a daily basis, only now the cycle got personal.
            One morning I walked down to the lavanderia with a bag of clothes ready to be washed balanced on my head. I suddenly realized the streets around me were quiet and empty. Something was not right. A large group of men with machetes appeared around the corner, I turned around to go the other way and a group of soldiers in riot gear were marching in my direction. Caught in the crossfire of a protest I ducked into a building just in time to hear the fighting erupt outside…
            Soon after that, I was walking down the street after work when the snapping crackle of electricity hit the air. Above my head an electric line popped coming free. I side stepped the line as it whipped around showering sparks against everything it hit…
            The following week I traveled to Antigua. I do not recall why there were fireworks, but there was a man up on the roof setting off the big ones that rock your chest. The air exploded and I watched the shadow of a man engulfed by flames. I felt the heat on my skin, the ringing in my ear, debris hitting all around…
            Now I was on a Chicken Bus to Sumpango. I was going to honour the dead by going to the cemetery and watch the kites take flight. I wondered if I would be joining those spirits. At that moment, a chicken fell from the overhead cargo space and the bus irrupted in feathers, at first swearing, and then a chorus of laughter. Surrendering myself, I laughed too. If I was that Jaguar, that big black cat, then by my count I still had a few lives left…