Cultural immersions and weekend excursions

What a day! Today began at 5:15 in the morning. I met Maria, my new friend from the language school, outside my house and we met two other students, Jasmine and another guy (I can’t pronounce his name right and I don’t even know how to begin to spell it..I’ll get it in writing later) one the way. Maria is from Denmark and the other two students are from Germany. Who knew I would meet people from all over the world here?! Anyway, we met at 6 a.m. and thus began the journey to Chicabal.

Chicabal is one of Guatemala’s many volcanoes. It is only a one-hour bus ride from Quetzaltenango and an eight kilometer hike to the main attraction—a huge lake located inside the volcano’s crater.

We began by catching an early microbus on its way to the bus terminal. At the terminal, we boarded a “chicken bus” with our backpacks, travel books, and unmistakably tourist excitement. Chicken buses are the cheapest and most natively popular mode of transportation, aptly named from the interesting companions that frequent the journeys. Families, travelers, and vendors pile all their children, luggage, and merchandise—and yes, that includes chickens—into the brightly-colored buses similar to school buses in the United States. The buses sport flames, zig zags, swirls, and stripes in every color available to mankind. The bus filled to the brim, with people sitting three to a seat and standing in the aisles. I sat on the inside of a seat with a father and his young son and an old man. Unfortunately, I only had enough time to muster a buenos dias! before he fell fast asleep. I would have loved to retrace all the memories in his wrinkled face with him.    

The bus dropped us off in a little town at the foot of the volcano. We navigated through the sleepy town’s concrete and cobble stone roads uphill for thirty minutes until we reached the natural terrain. Before this journey, when I thought of volcanoes I thought of brittle black terrain and nothing but soot and rocks to keep you company. Fue el opuesto! (It was the opposite!) Step after step brought us tree after flower after fern after weed. The volcano was teeming with thriving vegetation everywhere the eye could see.

Amidst our tunnel of green, we passed the occasional Guatemalan farmer boasting a bundle of sticks on their back or black sheep trailing behind. The four of us had a hard enough time as it is traversing the steep and perpetual uphill with our backpacks filled with snacks and water. It was quite humbling to watch even young Guatemalan children pass us by carrying their heavy metals shovels.

After being immersed in so much green, the lake was breath-taking at first sight. The water was clear and the crater, surrounded by trees, opened up to a gorgeous blue sky. We stayed at the lake for about an hour, following the trodden path around the lake. While we were walking, the sky became filled with clouds. I’ve already become accustomed to almost-instant clouds appearing in the sky after only being here for six days. But this was different, unlike anything I have ever seen before. The clouds left their normal distantly observing places and floated down to the surface of the lake to meet us in person. They sunk down like smoke on the water and turned our skin to goosebumps as they chillily brushed our faces.

The climb back out of the crater was brutal. Hundreds of steps almost entirely vertical to where the next step up was right in front of our noses. It was the hardest work I have ever done. However our hard work was rewarded because the rest of the way back was all downhill. We took a minivan taxi back to Xela and spent the next few hours walking around the enormous market outside the bus terminal.

Hundreds of booths were filled with vegetables, fruit, nuts, clothes, shoes, toys, scarves, electronics, hair accessories, cloth, raw meat, umbrellas, and everything futbol. Women were tending, men were transporting, and children were peeking out from every nook and cranny available. The many smells and sounds of the market left their mark on my spotless Walmart aisle-accustomed senses.

We parted ways at the market and I walked the thirty-minute trek home. I think I am finally getting a hang of the city!

Interesting fact: The total cost for today, the three bus rides and entrance fee to the volcano combined, cost 30 Quetzals. That’s only $4!