 Maria con su
barrilete Maria with her
kite |
The cool winds of October
and November make autumn kite season in Guatemala. We made several kites and
went over to a nearby vacant lot to fly them. The lot is strewn with broken
cinderblocks, mounds of dirt and other debris. Power lines cross in three
directions, and its border is lined by tall trees. It's not exactly a
beginner's kite flying area. But then the local kids that fly their homemade
kites here are experts, regardless of the carnage hanging from the wires. Give
them a plastic bag, sticks, tape and spool of thread, and in a few minutes
they'll have a kite flying high enough to interfere with commercial air
traffic.
Our kites flew well, and we even got most of them back
to the ground in one piece. Maybe we'll manage to finish them off tomorrow,
though. |
I almost became a statistic in a chicken bus accident
yesterday, and I wasn't even on the bus! A bombero (fireman) from
Chichicastenango came by to help us move things to Lemoa. We were on the way
there, rounding a sharp curve in the outside lane when a bus roared towards us
in the other lane. Now these buses have specially tuned suspensions and can
take corners faster than you might think. I've often seen them with the body
rolling a good 30 degrees from plumb while the chassis stayed planted on the
ground. This one, though, had entered the corner much too fast -- when the
driver over-corrected, the rear tires lifted off the ground. The back of the
bus swung round, and it really looked like the bus was going to flop over on
us. I'm not sure how it didn't.
I almost jumped out of my seat. The
bombero driving the truck, however, just gave a despairing wag of the head. He
had seen way too many chicken bus accidents in his line of work. |
|
 Bus
extraurbano The infamous chicken
bus in its native habitat
We took a rural taxi to Xela last week to get
Andrés' cast off. We couldn't get our usual driver, so we had to go to
the second string. It made for an exciting ride. For some reason our our new
driver spent most of the trip in the left lane. Not necessarily passing someone
-- he seemed to think it was smoother over there. In the straight stretches I
wasn't too concerned, but it was a bit suspenseful when he went around blind
corners.
In the rural areas of Guatemala the road is also the main path
for foot traffic. There is always a steady stream of pedestrians on the edge of
the road, ferrying loads on their heads or backs to unknown destinations. I
have never seen any of these travelers express any emotion at the recklessness
of the vehicles roaring by them at their absolute maximum velocities. They are
a hardy bunch. |
Our driver,
however, had what it took. I saw several people jump back in surprise as he
nearly body-checked them off the pavement. We were often totally out of
control, usually skittering sideways across a patch of washboard. Here is a
partial list of things I was sure we were going to hit, but somehow didn't:
- 2 women carrying produce
- 1 bicyclist
- 3 dogs, 1 puppy
- 1 turkey
- 2 large tanker trucks
- 1 piglet
|
 Hombre de maiz Non-motorized
transport near Lemoa |
We finished off the resident population of roosters
last week. I thought I would share the recipe for the wonderful soup they make:
Rooster Soup a la Hogar del Nino
To Prepare Roosters:
- Raise some roosters until they are big enough
to eat, or until you can't stand the racket any more
- Take a few of the noisest ones behind the
woodshed and wring their stupid necks
- Chop off heads and drain blood
- Soak roosters in water for an hour or so to
make the plucking easier.
- Pluck
- Remove organs; save for soup the next day.
Save feet and head, too.
- Cut roosters into standard shapes found in
the supermarket
- Drop rooster parts into boiling water
- Add potatoes, carrots
- Cook up some rice, too
To Serve:
Pour soup into
bowls, along with a piece of rooster. Spoon in a good portion of rice, add a
touch of hot sauce, and squeeze in half a lime. Enjoy. It really is delicious,
even if you don't have personal differences with some of the ingredients. |
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