El gallo y el pollo

Yesterday, I discovered two new things in Guatemala: El gallo (the rooster) y el pollo (the chicken). Gallo is one of the two Guatemalan produced beers. It´s good, but nothing special, except for the fact that the factory is very close to my language school, and provides a convenient topic of conversation during otherwise headache inducing lessons on grammar. More interesting than the beer is the rooster -- the real, live rooster -- that lives in the house next to the one I´m staying in. Yesterday, it began it´s crowing at 4:00 am, and continued until I consented to get up around 6. In truth, it´s probably a good thing! Many of you reading this know just how little I like the combination of early mornings and being out of my bed!

El pollo is a staple in Guatemala, less so in the form of food and more so in the form of the ubiquitous chicken busses. After classes yesterday, a few other students and I traveled up to Momostenango, a small town filled with indigenous craftspeople. The visit itself was incredible, but the ride there left a far bigger impression. Shumway, if you´re reading this, everything you described about the chicken buses is true in spades! These buses are old, retired US school buses, with the same interior I remembered from elementary school, but enhanced with a brightly painted multi-color exterior, including a small sign up top indicating the route the bus travels.

Two chicken buses, hoping to pick me up.

Inside the buses are two very important individuals: the driver, and the "helper". I´m not sure which job requires a braver person. The driver was responsible for rapidly popeling the bus forward along windy, muddy, mountain roads; for passing trucks on the uphill; and for narrowly avoiding the other cars, motorcycles, and people in the street. I had a few flashbacks to Inida; Amy, one of the girls from my school who was sitting in front of me, put her head in her lap and almost got sick! The helper spent some of his time winding back through the aisle collecting money from passengers. The rest of his time was spent doing three things: leaning out the bus while moving, either to yell "Momostenango" or look to see when it was safe to pull back into the right lane after passing a bus; and, most impressively, climbing out the back of the moving (quickly moving!) bus and up onto the roof. When we first got on the bus, it was largely empty, but a few stops later, everyone on the bus was sitting three to a seat, and children were standing in the aisles next to the parents! I´m still not completely sure what to make of the chicken bus experience, but I am positive this was the first of many rides por un pollo!

Hasta pronto, amigos!

The inside of a chicken bus