Xela
Hitting multiple countries in a trip allows you to see contrasts. Xela, short for Quetzaltenango, and the ride there from the Guatemalan border were palpably different from Mexico. Gone were the first class coaches and minivans, and here were the chicken buses and insanely cramped combi vans [try fitting 15 people in a Dodge Caravan]. Indigenous businesses were replaced with fast food chains and foreign conglomerates. The Catholic Church was still in a battle with the nascent evangelical sects, but they appeared to be losing, especially in the countryside.
Xela was cosmopolitan, but in contrast to Oaxaca
and San Cristobal,
there were few foreigners other than the humanitarian and religious workers.
It did have plenty of life, grit and glory in its stalwart central square,
outlying back streets, and endless sprawl.
Xela’s 100,000 people were very friendly. There was an amazing abundance
of uniformed schoolgirls (all who went to evangelical schools), shoeshine
men and amazingly, beauty
pageant contestants.
The lineup of shoeshine men, and those who had been freshly shined, in the main square.
 |
Xela was where we first grasped how universal indigenous dress was for women.
 |
 |
|
The well-landscaped courtyard of an administrative building, and nearby market vendors.
 |
 |
|
Carefully crossing the street.
 |
Boys sit on a monument in the zocolo—a shrine to solid, neo-classical design; walking on one of the more classically built side streets.
 |
 |
|
The signs varied from the ornate to the company sponsored.
 |
 |
|
The daughter, sister, and mother team at Segrado Corazon, an incredible
comedor tucked away from the main town center.
We ate a rich, never-ending breakfast and experienced our first Guatemalan
tortilla—small, fat and blue.
 |
 |
|
Two of the many vendors in the bus terminal.
 |