1. Volcanoes. Sure, I know there are some volcanoes quite close to Mexico City, but I certainly can’t see them. In fact, I can’t even see the surrounding mountains, only a yellow haze on the horizon. I grew quite attached to some of Guatemala’s volcanoes, even though I didn’t climb any of them (besides Pacaya, Guatemala’s “Volcano for Dummies.”) The three peaks around Lake Atitlan, Volcan Agua looming over Antigua, and most of all Quetzaltenango’s Santa Maria. An almost impossibly perfect cone, it was always there to welcome me back home to Xela whenever I left.
2. The time. No, not the literal time (we’re on the same time zone in Mexico City, after all.) I’m talking about all the time people have. I worked about 35-40 hours a week, and most of my friends had similar time commitments. Still, it seemed like people always had the time for things in Xela. Time to stop and chat, time to sit in the park and do nothing, time for a spontaneous dinner party. Everyone in Mexico City, myself included, seem to be really busy. Of course, I’m sure that the capital is not representative of the country as a whole, but I will still always fondly think of Guatemala as a place where people are moving slow enough just to hang out.
3. The tortillas. What, you say? Surely Mexican food is better than Guatemalan food! Okay. Yes, Mexican food is much better than Guatemalan food. Guatemalan food isn’t bad per se, it’s just nothing to write home about. But man, are the tortillas better in Guatemala! They are thick with a rich, earthy flavour. Here in Mexico they are thinner and just sort of lackluster. (I guess in Mexico they can afford to be so-so since they are filled with such amazing things.)
4. Salsa. Plain and simple. My dancing shoes seem to be taking an indefinite hiatus.
5. Politeness. Again, don’t get me wrong. People in Mexico City are certainly polite. But it’s nothing compared to the uber-politeness of Guatemalans. Kiss on the cheek, every time you see someone. “Con permiso” whenever you pass someone on the sidewalk. An extended round of “Que tenga buen dia… gracias… que le vaya bien” whenever you leave a store. Etc, etc, etc. These sort of things really grow on a person in 6 months.
6. The disorder. “How can you live in such chaotic and disorganized places?” my mother always asks. It’s simple: I am a very chaotic and disorganized person. So being somewhere crazy, where the chicken buses spew black fumes, where markets spill over onto the road, where loud merengue is blasted on store speakers, where “Guatemalan time” means showing up at least an hour late… these things make me feel at ease. They calm me. It’s nice, being able to match my inner chaos with that of the outside world.
7. Colours From Mayan women’s beautiful huipiles (woven blouses), to the peeling paint on houses and stores, to the pimped-out designs on chicken buses, Guatemala gives the eye a lot to play with.
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