One day, when I was lost on the Guatemalan bus system…
5:30pm– It’s about time for dinner, so Lisa, Katie and I set out from Higher Grounds coffee shop to travel back to the YWAM base where we are staying, a mere 3 block stroll and 10 minute bus ride away. After walking 5 blocks we decide we may be going in the wrong direction. We pull an about-face and march back toward the coffee shop. Finally, we find the correct street, sprint across traffic and call out to the driver to be sure the bus is headed to our stop “Esperanza?” we ask. “Si, si” the driver affirms. We stuff ourselves onto the already over-crowded bus each in a different seat, each beside a different random Guatemalan man. The bus pulls out and as far as we know we are off to dinner.
Twenty minutes later I realize I don’t recognize anything. I glance back at Lisa as if to ask, “Do you know where we’re going?” She simply shrugs and the bus rolls on. Each time we stop more and more people squeeze into the seats and aisles. At this point the money-taking man looks at me and asks, “donde?” and like the Antiguan expert I am I confidently say, “Esperanza.” He proceeds to speak a lot of Spanish (none of which I understand) and point in every direction other than the one in which we are traveling. As I sit knowing we are going the wrong direction I look out the windshield just in time to see us entering the highway. I again look back at Lisa who proceeds to burst into hysterical laughter- not helpful.
6:45pm– We enter a small town 15 kilometers outside of Antigua, when the driver pulls off the side of the road and proceeds to kick us out onto the street. So there we were- three gringas standing on the corner in a random Guatemalan town where they obviously don’t see many white people. We quickly drew a crowd- a very unhelpful crowd. We did find two lovely girls who asked where we wanted to go and offered us the use of a cell phone. After talking to Bruce, our YWAM contact, we decided to flag down a tuk-tuk to take us to the base.
The only information we have is a card with the YWAM address. We give it to the tuk-tuk driver who looks at us blankly. After some broken Spanish exchanged between Lisa, Katie and Carlos, the driver, we climb into the back and are finally ‘headed home’. One thing you should know about tuk-tuks, they are not made for the highway. We motor along at all of 20 miles per hour with cars and trucks zooming past.
7:15pm– We pass a sign that reads “San Miguel”. This is promising- the YWAM base is in San Miguel. Carlos pulls off the road, flips on the light, looks at the address again, then back at us. We soon realize Carlos has no idea where to go from here. So, we stop to ask directions and proceed on what we believe to be the correct route. He asks if we recognize anything, the only thing any of us can remember near the base in a sign for a cell-phone company called Ti-go. It soon becomes apparent that Ti-go signs in San Miguel are a lot like Starbucks in Atlanta- they are on every corner and thus make for very poor land marks. Ti-go is a no go! More asking strangers where to go, more people pointing in different directions.
Again, it is time to call the base for assistance, only no one there can hear us and apparently is takes a lot of change to use a Guatemalan pay phone. After dumping all our coins into the phone, with no success we drive to a store to get change. While Carlos is the shop, the tuk-tuk dies. He comes back out, starts gesturing for us to get out and speaks rapidly in Spanish. The three of us look at each other in disbelief, “Is he kicking us out?! Has he given up?” Eventually we realize that he is asking us to hop out and help push-start the tuk-tuk. So, out we go, grab the sides and push- running down the street for half a block before it putters to a start. We jump in on the run and again are rolling through the streets. At this point we stop about every block to ask for directions- handing random people the card with our address. This is a highly unsuccessful venture. We call the base again, by this time Carlos has the number memorized. Luckily we get in touch with Estuardo who lives at the YWAM base. He and Carlos chat for a while, then Carlos hangs up and declares he knows the way. “You know the way?” Lisa asks and he answers “More or less.” The four of us at this point break into laughter- what else could we do?
One group of people we asked for assistance says, “Mas Gringos?” (“More white people?”). “Si, si!” we answer excitedly. They point us in yet another direction and we speed off, playing chicken with parked trucks and swerving to avoid pot-holes.
8:15pm– Carlos begins to simply ask people, “Do you know where Estuardo lives?” Oddly enough, this proves the most effective method of navigating Guatemalan towns.
8:20pm– We arrive at the base safe and sound, take a few pictures with Carlos, the amazing tuk-tuk driver and thankfully have plates of dinner awaiting our return.
10:30pm– Estuardo comes out with a phone call for Katie. It is none other than Carlos, exchanging email addresses so we can send him our pictures.
Lessons Learned:
