I requested the day off work so that I could go to
the festival in San Juan Comalapa. It’s
their biggest of the year, and my teachers Ixkamey and Ixkaj were both there,
so I went. To get there, I knew I would
have to take a bus. I also knew that the
route near Comalapa had a lot of curves as it went through the mountains. Nonetheless, I figured that the trip would be
worth the pain. At the end, I still
believe it was. But getting there was
much more of an adventure than I expected.
I had to take 2 buses to get there. Fortunately, I found a guy on the first bus
who was going to the same place, so I got off when he got off, then ran across
a street to catch the next bus. Now this
bus was more full than any other bus I’ve ever been on. We were in the middle of their route, so I
had no chance of getting a seat. I was 1
person away from having to hang out the door.
It was extremely uncomfortable, and I was holding on to whatever I could
to stay in one place and not accidentally push anyone out to their death. Or at least broken bones, maybe I’m being
dramatic. But my real story hasn’t yet began. We stopped in a random place and 2 more
people wanted to get on. They were
older, so they couldn’t handle hanging out the door. So the helper told one other guy and myself
to get out and go to the back of the bus.
Well, we got to the back and they were packed there too. There was no way we could fit. So what did we do? Well, we went up to the roof of the bus. Yup.
To be fair, at least they have some traction on the roof and a 6-inch
railing around the whole thing. But, as
you can imagine, it was sketchy. I
prayed hard. If that bus were to crash,
I may have been able to survive by hitting the packs of stuff that were tied on
top of the bus. But I also might have
flown off. At first it was fun, I snuck
out my camera and took a few selfies of the experience. This is one thing that justifies
selfies.



My compatriots always informed
me of low-hanging trees ahead of time so that I wouldn’t get hit. They were thin branches so it probably wouldn’t have
knocked me off, but at 30-40 mph it would have hurt a lot. I then abandoned my half-seated position for
a laying-down position. Many other trees
threatened my existence throughout the trip, but none were low enough to catch
me in my new position. Also, speed bumps
are interesting when on the top of a bus.
Did I get kicked up a foot above the roof? No, it was probably only 6 inches. But I tell you what, you feel those 6-inches
when you come down. Finally, we reached
the turns. The ones I mentioned in the
introduction that I didn’t even want to take from within the bus. Oh boy. I held on tight. It was terrifying, but in some strange way it
was also exhilarating. Maybe it is
similar to what it feels like to drive a convertible! Wind in my hair, sun out, connected to nature
and to the road. In a
very different way. Finally, the
tumultuous curves came to an end and we had almost arrived in Comalapa. At this point, the helper popped his head
over the roof and asked us to pay! I
first wanted to ask why on earth he wanted to do this while we’re going 30 mph,
and second wanted to ask for a discount for being outside the bus. I did not pose either of these questions
because I just wanted to get my wallet out of my pocked and give him the money
before I fell off from not being able to hang on to the bars on the sides. When I finally got off in Comalapa, a lot of
people looked at me in wonder because I am sure they have never seen a gringo climb down from the top of a bus
after an experience like mine. What an
experience. A lot of crazy things
happened in Peru, but nothing of this variety.
Wow. I will never forget my adventures
on top of an exotically-painted, retired American school bus through the
mountains of Guatemala.
Once in town, I met up with Ixkaj. She
led me around the festival, which was crazy and packed, as seems to be common
in Latin America. First we went through
the market. It is about the same as any
other market, but it was huge for the size of the town. Tarps above all the vendors, no space to
walk, etc. Eventually we came across the
procession, where a statue of the patron Saint John is carried through the
city. It was a great excuse to get
pictures of traditional clothing, and the statue was also very beautiful. My favorite role was a guy with a long tool
to move low power-lines out of the way when they were at risk of hitting the
statue’s head. Here are some pictures:


Then we arrived to the rides. As much as I wanted to get the view from the
top of the Ferris-wheel, I did not trust the thin supports and outdated machinery. All rides seemed to be like that, but some
were small enough that no one would die if they broke. I enjoyed the traditional ride of chairs
being rotated in a circle, but with a twist…
It was hand-cranked instead of machine operated. All these things that we don’t see in the
states.


Eventually we made it over to the dancers. It wasn’t anything as extravagant as Puno,
but it was still interesting. A nice
live band plus masked dancers in very interesting outfits. They seemed to be some kind of a mix between
Spanish and Mayan influences. My personal favorite looked like an African-American DJ. Not sure what he was doing there. Also, the
skirts the women wore were incredibly short.
I was shocked, because culturally that is not a thing here. Women wear skirts past their knees, or
sometimes all the way down to their feet.
It seemed very strange that a religious festival happened to be the
excuse for women to wear less clothing.


Ixkaj and I alternated between marveling at the
rides and enjoying the dancers for a while, then got hungry and went to
lunch. There was one restaurant in town
that was apparently the best, so we went there.
I was very impressed! The food
was delicious, and service wasn’t so bad.
It was great to chat about Kaqchikel and culture and whatnot with
Ixkaj. I also figured out that her
sister, Ixkamey, had been to Chicago with Dr. Rohloff during his time at
UIUC. It dawned on me that this was the
woman who Amanda Cuevas (director of the Office of Fellowships at GVSU) had
given clothing to, because Ixkamey informed her it was from Comalapa. I am still amazed by how small the world
is. Also, Dr. Rohloff had apparently
stayed in their house for some time when he was learning Kaqchikel, so it was
cool to hear about her interactions with the man I’ve heard so much about.
The bus ride home was not so eventful, which
I was ok with. Sure, the bus was so
packed that people were sitting 3 in every seat while the aisle was full as
well. That would be too much if it were
full of the little kids it was designed for, and adults are something else. In the evening I went around with Samantha to
take GPS points then told Ixim about my adventures from the day. She laughed hysterically out of disbelief
while advising me not to do it again J I think it was a good bonding time. Tomorrow I again step into the reality of
doing interviews in Paquip.