2 planes, 1 taxi, and a bus

After all that, Im finally at a median temperature of 75 degrees. The flights, as expected, I spent nestled up against the window with an airline pillow and blanket. My first opportnity for error was choosing the correct taxi to take me to the bus station, but when I saw it I knew it was fate - a direct ray of sunlight radiated off the dome of the car and enclosed it in a forcefield of all things good with the world - it was a '97 Escort wagon. I was feeling spiritual so I figured it was the reincarnation of the seafoam green monster that once made the famed Monroe/Ann Arbor/Detroit triangle more times than I care to remember.

It, and the driver of course, got me safely to the bus that would take me to Xela (SHAY-LA). I dropped my bags, changed my clothes, and found the first 'Cerverceria' I could for a glass of Guatemala's finest lager, Gallo. And for about a dollar a bottle, it's well within the budget.

The route from the capital to Xela is far from a straight shot, but as we passed many signs of an alive countryside I became a bit more anxious. Dirt patch soccer games commenced wherever there was space, faded Coca Cola and orange Crush signs were far more common than mile-markers, and when an appropriate darkness set in on the bus, the little girl in the seat in front of me started throwing little pieces of paper at me.

Xela, in the light of day, is completely surrounded by beautiful mountains, the first of which I'll hopefully be visiting this weekend. The family I am staying with is extremely generous and very nice. When I told them I was vegetarian, in what I feel is a somewhat typical response in this part of the world, my host mother replied (in spanish), "So you eat ham?" "No, no meat", I said, only to be followed by, "You eat chicken?" I admired her persistence.

More later.