Four hours on public transportation in Guatemala City – just another day on the buses

Today, I took what might be one of my last long rides on Guatemala City’s public transport system, as we are leaving the city in a few days. I had a meeting with my research assistant in Santa Luisa, Zone 6, and we are living clear on the other side of the city in San Jose de Villanueva.

From where we live, I walk about five blocks to the bus stop where the suburban buses chug by every twenty minutes or so. The suburban buses are old school buses from the US, re-fitted to squeeze three adults onto each seat. The outsides are also painted turquoise and white. On this one, the sign that reads “No Standees” was still visible, although there were plenty of people standing up. In fact, at one point, there were at least eight people in the stairway, some of them hanging out the door. The busdriver’s helper was completely out of the open doorway, hanging onto the side of the bus, shouting to the people to move back to make more room.

That bus ride takes between 15 and 30 minutes, depending on traffic. From there, I walk downstairs to take the Transmetro, the new, bright green modern city buses that run along their own track. I can take the Transmetro the whole way into downtown in about 40 minutes. Today, however, I got off at the Trebol – a point where many highways meet at the edge of the city. The Transmetro is generally uneventful. Everyone waits in line to get on the Transmetro, and then it is quite orderly inside. The biggest drama associated with the Transmetro is that you need one quetzal coins to get on the bus, and, sometimes there is no one available to make change.

When I got off at the Trebol, I had to find where to take the 96 bus which takes me all the way to Santa Luisa. I asked the transit police officer, but he did not know. At least he pointed me in the right direction. I don’t generally like walking around the Trebol. There are plenty of unsavory looking types around, and it is renowned for petty theft. But, it was light outside, and safe enough. So, I kept walking, looking for someone to ask for directions. I found a government employee, still dressed in his uniform. He wasn’t sure, but a woman standing nearby overheard us, and told me I had to walk all the way down the street, past the two pedestrian bridges.

I set off down the road towards the pedestrian bridges. On the way, I passed by a plethora of people selling everything from T-shirts to razors to key chains to shampoos. It is not recommendable to buy the shampoo bottles from Trebol street vendors. That should be clear from the fact that the bottles do not look new. They aren’t. The vendors salvage Head and Shoulders and Pantene bottles from the city dump and pour some soapy substance inside, along with a lot of water. So, unless you want an unidentified liquid on your head, it is best to stay away from the bargain shampoos.

Finally, I made it to the second pedestrian bridge. Still, no 96 bus. So, I walked a couple of more blocks, until I saw a 96 bus in the distance. When I reached it, I asked the bus driver’s helper if he was headed to zone 6. He told me I had to keep walking, to the telephones. So, I kept walking until I saw a row of public telephones. Just past that, there was the 96 bus. The driver told me he was headed to zone 6, so I hopped on. The bus was full, so I had to stand up. That isn’t so much of a problem, but it means I can’t see the sights, as the windows are too low. Eventually, a few people got off, and I got to have a seat and watch zones 3, 1, 2, and 6 pass by. Finally, near two hours after leaving San Jose de Villanueva, I made it to Santa Luisa.

My research assistant met me at the bus stop and took me to her house. Her mother had been expecting us, and had prepared a delicious lunch of stewed chicken and dobladas. Dobladas are like thick, handmade tortillas, filled with cheese and locoro- a sort of squash blossom. The food was delicious!

After our meeting, I headed back out again, on my two hour journey home on the bus across Guatemala City. Of course, now that I have the hang of taking the buses in Guatemala City, we are getting ready to leave for Santo Domingo, where I have a whole new set of challenges to face.

Moving every three months to a new urban area ensures that things are never dull. In each city, there is so much to figure out. At times, this can be frustrating. But, at the same time, it keeps us on our toes, ensuring there is never a dull moment.

Dealing with violence in Guatemala City – one of the murder capitals of the world

Deportees who arrive in Guatemala City have to learn how to deal with the urban violence, especially gangs, guns, kidnapping, and extortionists. Depending on whose statistics you believe, Guatemala is either the second or fourth most dangerous country in Latin America, and among the top ten homicide capitals of the world. Although the Peace Accords were signed in 1996, ending the decades-long civil war, homicides have been on the rise since the end of the twentieth century in Guatemala City.

The homicide rate in Guatemala was about 53 per 100,000 persons in 2008, ten times the rate of the US. Evidence of this high rate of homicides is clear in the newspapers, which provide a more gruesome story each day. In a recent story, gang members allegedly shot the delivery driver bringing Chinese food to their car, because the owner of the restaurant failed to pay the extortionists. Stories of killings on public buses abound, and newspapers often link the killings to gang members and to extortion.

Many deportees recount to me that they are scared to ride on buses, especially at night, when buses are reportedly more dangerous. Others have no choice, and have to ride the buses to get to work each day.

Nearly all of the deportees I spoke to went to a family member’s house when they first arrived in Guatemala. Some of them are lucky, and their families live in fairly safe parts of the city. Others are less fortunate and have to live in places filled with gangs and urban violence. In these areas, deportees have to learn to navigate the streets of their new barrios to avoid unpleasant confrontations. Some are able to use the street smarts obtained in the US to get by. Others rely on the respect neighbors have of their families in Guatemala City to protect them.

Some of the reports on violence in Guatemala City may be overblown by sensationalist media outlets. However, the feeling that Guatemala City is a violent city is pervasive. In the three months I have been here, three people have recounted to me that a close friend or family member has been killed by violent means. My landlady told me that a friend of hers was killed, apparently in a robbery attack. One of my interviewees told me that her nephew was killed at his house by murderers who came to look for him. Another interviewee told me that her son-in-law had been kidnapped, and her daughter had died in a car accident related to the kidnapping. Two of my 35 interviewees told me that they had been shot at. Others reported witnessing violent crimes. My friend who works for the United Nations told me that she never walks the streets of Guatemala City, by order of her employers.

I do walk the streets of Guatemala City, but take the necessary precautions. I don’t carry around my laptop, camera, or ipod. I avoid walking alone at night. I sit towards the front of the bus. I call yellow cabs when I have to travel alone at night or to go somewhere I am not familiar with. I took off my gold wedding ring and don’t wear any valuable jewelry. When I have to walk through shady areas alone, I walk confidently, as if I am not nervous, so as not to attract attention to myself. When I need to ask directions, I select who I will ask. The fact that I take all of these precautions indicates that I do not feel completely safe in the city. At the same time, I am very glad I have walked the streets, as I have immensely enjoyed my time in Guatemala City. It just would not have been the same had I stayed indoors the whole time.

Getting around Guatemala City on the Bus and Transmetro

After lunch, I picked up the phone and called Lorenzo, a deportee that a friend had recommended for an interview. I told Lorenzo that I was writing a book on deportees and wanted to talk to him. He seemed very interested, and agreed to be interviewed that afternoon.

On the phone, Lorenzo told me he had a scar on his face. That made me wonder why he had a scar. He spoke perfect English, so I presumed he had grown up in the US. Other than that, I had no idea who I was going to meet, and plenty to reflect on as I took the bus downtown.

Now that we live in San Jose de Villanueva, it is a one to one and a half hour trip downtown on two different buses. Because of the long ride, I really hoped Lorenzo would show up. The first bus is a remodeled school bus where three adults squeeze onto seats designed for two children. That bus lets me off at the Transmetro stop – the new Express buses that go from the southern suburbs to the city center - Zone One.

The Transmetro bounced me down Avenida Bolivar, past Pollo Campero, Mega Paca, and under pedestrian bridges - all frequent landmarks in Guatemala City. Pollo Campero is the national fried chicken restaurant, where, for a day's miminum wage, you can get a three piece chicken meal. The Mega Pacas are huge stores filled with second hand clothes from the United States. Mega Pacas even have K-mart style billboard with models dressed in their second hand clothes. And, pedestrian bridges dot the city, designed to prevent pedestrian accidents. They generally work, except for the ones pedestrians are scared to use because of the potential for robbery.

Further down Avenida Bolivar, we came to a line of furniture stores, where each small manufacturer exhibits their wares outside. As we rolled by, I fantasized about buying a small dresser in which to put my clothes. Having enough space to fully unpack all of our clothes is a consistent problem when we travel for temporary stays. It is never enough of a problem, though, to actually go through the trouble to purchase a new dresser. That didn’t stop me from thinking about which one I might want as we rode by.

At Don Bosco Station, the Transmetro veered off onto First Avenue, headed towards Zone 1. We passed a line of wholesale distributors of toiletries, toilet paper, shampoo, and other bathroom items. I am not sure why dealers of similar items all line up together, but it must work for them. Soon, we were on 18 Calle, with stall after stall of things for sale. Each stall is dedicated to a different item for sale – pirated DVDs, tricycles, suitcases, balls, pots, pans, clothes, and then, another Mega Paca. So many things for sale in a city where most people are too poor to buy much of anything.

I got off of the Transmetro at Plaza Muni. As I was twenty minutes early, I scoped the place out to find a spot to do the interview. I found a Pollo Campero and went back to the bus station. Once there, I saw a light-skinned guy with a blue Dodgers T-shirt on looking at me. I saw the scar on the side of his face and said “Lorenzo”? It was him.

The first thing he wanted to know was if he had a chance of returning to the US. His whole family is there – his mother, his stepfather, his cousins, his uncles, and his three kids. In Guatemala, he only has an aunt and three cousins. When he first came back ten years ago, his grandmother was here. She has since passed away.

As we were talking, I found out that Lorenzo got his scar here in Guatemala. He was standing on 18 Calle in the evening with his wife when two robbers approached him. When they demanded that he give them his phone, he punched one in the face. The other scratched him with a sharp object, leaving a huge scar across his left cheek. I asked him why he didn't just give him the stuff. He told me, “When you're from L.A., you don't do that.”

Lorenzo lives in a rough part of Guatemala City – La Limonada in Zone 5. I asked him if anyone gives him trouble there. He told me they don’t. I pointed out that they must know he has family in the US, and asked if he has any issues with extortionists. He said, thankfully, he does not. It seems as if his street smarts he developed in the US are helping him to survive here in Guatemala.

After our interview, I joined the sea of people on the Transmetro. Luckily, I got a seat. On the way back, I reflected on the interview and on how Lorenzo's life had changed. In the US, he had a car, a steady job, and partied a lot. In Guatemala, he rides the bus, and has a job that pays just enough for him and his family to get by. During the interview, I asked him if he was any less mad, now that he has been here for ten years. He says he is not – he is still mad at himself for messing up. Not a day goes by when he doesn't think about his life in the US. Not a day, for ten years.

The Journey to the US is Dangerous, but So is Guatemala City

One of the first places I began to look for deportees in Guatemala was in the airport, where deportees arrive from the United States. I exchanged numbers with them, and asked them to call me in a month or so to let me know how things are going.

To my surprise, this strategy has been moderately successful, even when I don’t secure an interview. This morning, a young man called me, telling me I gave him my number nearly two months ago at the airport. We chatted for a bit, and arranged to have an interview on Saturday. This one I expect should work out.

About two weeks ago, I called a young man I met in the airport. He told me he’d be glad to talk to me, but only could do the interview on Sundays, as he was working the other six days a week. I called him the following Sunday, but he wasn’t around. So, I picked up the phone and tried again today. He told me he is too busy to do the interview. He is in Xela, preparing for a trip to the US, leaving in the next couple of days.

I asked him why he is leaving, when he knows how dangerous the trip can be. He cited two reasons. The first is that he is having trouble finding a stable job here. The second is that Guatemala City is dangerous. The job he had required him to ride public transportation at night, and the newspapers are full of accounts of assaults, robberies, and murders on the buses, especially after dark.

Recently, three armed robbers got on the bus in zone 7 at 8:30pm and took everyone’s belongings. This made the front page news, not because of the event itself – but because the passengers on the bus shot and killed two of the assailants. Guns are legal in Guatemala, and two of the passengers were armed and fired at the robbers. The third got away with the passengers’ belongings.

Because of the violence in Guatemala City, the lack of opportunities for stable work, and the opportunities available in the US, this young man plans to risk the trip across Mexico and to the US once again.

On the trip, he risks being robbed on the freight trains going north. One of my interviewees explained to me that, as you are riding on the train, there are parts where you go through a tunnel, and it is completely dark. You have to hold on tightly, and can’t see anything. Right at that moment, thieves board the train and frisk you. You can’t let go, or else you die. When the train comes out the other side of the tunnel, you are left without your money. How the thieves are able to get your money without holding on is a mystery to me.

This young man also risks being kidnapped. Zetas, narco-trafficking rings in Mexico, often kidnap migrants and hold them for ransom. They call their family members and tell them to come up with $6,000 or they will kill the migrants. The Zetas are to be believed. They will kill you if your family doesn’t come up with the money in time.

If and when this young man gets across Mexico, past the gangs, robbers, and kidnappers, he will have to cross the treacherous desert, dodge Border Patrol agents and try to make it safely to his final destination. He may well make it – thousands do each year. He said he will call me when he arrives. I’ll look forward to hearing from him.

Leaving Zona 9 for Villanueva

My husband, three kids and I spent the first two months of our three month stay in Guatemala City in a furnished apartment in zone 9, near to the Plazuela Espana. We stayed in an apartment building that often rents to foreigners, in a part of the city where foreigners and wealthy Guatemalans live. Where we lived is not quite as exclusive, elite, and utterly bourgeois as La Cañada in zone 14 or Oakland in zone 10, but it was close enough. Here is the view from our window in zone 9.

From our apartment in zone 9, it was just a few short blocks to the Zona Viva, one of the few places in Guatemala City where foreigners mingle in cafes and sports bars. We also lived close to the nice Parque del Obelisco, and at a convenient distance from the American Embassy. In addition, our apartment was just a twenty minute bus ride from Zone 1, with no traffic.

Zones 9, 10, and 14 are the places most expatriates live, except for the brave few who live in Zone 2, for easy access to downtown (and cheaper rents). These are also the areas where most elite Guatemalans reside. These zones are safer than most, and one has access to nearly everything one could need. Nevertheless, we decided to move to a working class neighborhood, where a friend of ours offered to rent us an apartment. There are many advantages to living in a working class neighborhood in Guatemala City.

We packed our things and moved to San Jose de Villanueva, a working class neighborhood in the south of Guatemala City. The biggest advantage to living here, in my view, is the fact that people live part of their lives outside. In the more exclusive zones, life is mostly lived within the confines of the home, and perhaps inside restaurants and shopping malls. In contrast, in the neighborhood we live in now, kids play freely in the park outside, children come in and out of our house, and people greet each other as they pass by. Whereas my three daughters were largely confined to the house in Zone 9, except when I took them out to Pollo Campero or to the Parque del Obelisco, in our new neighborhood, they can run out on their own and play with their newfound friends. Here's a view from the window of our new place in Villanueva.

Another advantage is the food. First of all, in our new neighborhood, there are three young women who spend all day making fresh tortillas. Each morning, they grind the corn to make the masa. Then, they spend the rest of the day making fresh, hot, delicious tortillas with their hands, meaning we can have these tasty tortillas with each meal. In addition, there are several small stores that sell fresh vegetables, meat, chicken, and fresh baked bread within walking distance. And, of course, there is a large market that has everything one could want for sale, all at the best prices.

I was concerned about moving so far from all of the action. It takes a full hour to get to Zone 1 from Villanueva. It is about a twenty minute ride on a bus, and then another 40 minutes on the Transmetro, the new modern buses that go straight downtown. However, as I only have to go to Zone 1 a couple of times a week, if that, it is not that big of a deal to get on the bus. Plus, bus rides are always fertile ground for the stuff of blogs.

A Pleasant Sunday with the family in Lake Amatitlan

Nando and I took the kids to Lake Amatitlan this morning. It is a twenty minute bus ride from where we are staying in Villa Nueva, and a nice escape from the city. The buses, which leave from Guatemala City on a regular basis, drop you off right at the entrance to the lake.

Although it pales in comparison to Lake Atitlan, largely because of the fact that the water is very contaminated, I am glad we went. The water in Lake Atitlan is a funky, green color. To its merit, it does not have any foul odor. So, aside from the fact that swimming is not an option, it is not that bad. There are still a number of other things to do at the lake.

After walking along the lake and looking at all the handicrafts for sale, we took the kids to the mini-fair. The girls rode horses, and then got on one of the rides. The highlight of the day, however, was the teleferico – a lift like you would see at Swiss ski slopes, instead set in the bright green foliage of the mountains that encircle the lake.

The teleferico took us up to an overlook, from which you can see the lake and the surrounding mountains. There is also a park at the overlook, with a playground set, grills for cooking, a picnic area, football fields, and a small restaurant that has excellent pupusas.

Tatiana, Soraya, and Raymi played with the other kids while Nando and I relaxed and enjoyed the scenery and fresh air. It being a Sunday, there were plenty of families around, and the kids did not have any trouble finding other children with whom to play.

As far as I could tell, there were no foreign tourists at Lake Amatitlan – it is a prime destination for Guatemalans anxious to get away from the city and enjoy some of the natural wonders Guatemala has to offer. Foreign tourists likely prefer to go to some of the other more pristine parts of Guatemala. Admittedly, I would as well. However, being able to get to Lake Amatitlan in less than twenty minutes was a huge bonus for us.

Me, the twins, and the buses in Guate

Today was a day of public transportation in Guatemala City, and all that goes along with it.

I left my house in the zona 9 to take the bus downtown with Tatiana and Soraya. From the Sexta Avenida, we took the 83 bus straight to the National Congress on Novena Avenida and Novena Calle. That was fairly straightforward, except for Soraya complaining that she was hungry the whole time.

Once we got off the bus, we made our way to a Mexican sandwich place called Tortas la Tortuga. The girls had their sandwiches. And, the kind owner even gave each of my eight year old twins (Tatiana and Soraya) a plastic turtle as a souvenir. From there, we went to the Parque Central, where there were tons of pigeons. The girls found the goats more interesting.

There are a few goatherders who walk around the center of the city with their herd of goats. Unlike in San Francisco, there is no grass in downtown Guatemala, so their main purpose is not to cut grass. Instead, they are a walking lunch stand for some Guatemalans. The goatherders sell cups of frothy, warm goat milk to anyone who wants it. It does look nice and frothy, so Tatiana and Soraya wanted some. I thought that unpasteurized goat milk might not be the best idea, so I dissuaded them.

Of course, they were hungry again. So, we went to Pollo Campero before I dropped the girls off with their teacher, Victor.

From there, I took the bus number three to Mega 6 to get the 96 bus to Chinautla, where I had my next interview. As usual, my research assistant showed up a little late, so I had to stand on the corner and pretend like I was doing something. I had an interview in Chinautla, which went quite well. After that, I had to take the 96 bus back to Parque Colon to pick up Tatiana and Soraya.

From Parque Colon, we took the 101 bus to the Muni to get the Transmetro. The Transmetro is the new bus that traverses the city. Tatiana, Soraya and I were on that bus for nearly an hour, standing up the whole time. When we got off, we had to take another bus to our new home in Villa Nueva. Luckily, we found it and I was finally able to relax.

Lots to tell about our new home in Villanueva, but that will be for a later post.

You take your kids to Pizza Hut in Guatemala City??

In Guatemala City, the places we most often take the children are chain restaurants – Pizza Hut, Pollo Campero, Wendy’s, and the like. Although I am not generally a fan of taking my children to places where the food clogs your veins and makes you fat, in Guatemala City, we have done this, perhaps more than anywhere else we have lived. We do have our reasons for this.

The first reason is that each of these places has an indoor playground. When we take the kids there, they meet other children, and have a blast running through the purple and green slides and mazes. Within walking distance of our house in Zona 9, there are at least five different chain restaurants with indoor play places. When we take the kids there, I can relax, read a book, and even get online. Most of these chain restaurants not only have play places; they also have free Wi Fi. The food, I know, is bad for you. My solution to that is to not buy too much of it. That makes these places some of the cheapest entertainment for children in Guatemala City. That brings me to my next point – it is inexpensive.

In most places I have lived in Latin America, the chain restaurants are much more expensive than the local restaurants. In Guatemala City, that is not necessarily the case. The cheapest meal you can find in Guatemala City is Q15 (about $2.00). A decent meal will usually cost you Q20 or Q25 – up to $3.00. A nice meal usually runs at about Q40. At Pollo Campero, they have bargain meals for Q25. And, at Pizza Hut, the whole family can eat for Q79 – less than $10. That includes a pitcher of soft drink, a medium pizza, and dessert. For US$10, the whole family eats, and the kids have a blast, making it a real bargain.

Another reason is safety. Luckily, we have not had any unfortunate incidents in Guatemala City. However, there must be some reason why every store with anything of value has an armed guard stationed outside. Walking down 15th Avenue in Zona 13 with my daughter yesterday, I noticed that even small taco joints have their own personal security guard, with a typical long shot gun, stationed outside. Inside well-lit chain restaurants with their own armed security guards outside, we feel pretty safe.

The final reason is that it gets dark very early in Guatemala City – around 6 pm during the month of October. The only playground near to us – a very nice one on Avenida de las Americas – is not well-lit. It is not really a good place to take children when it is dark outside. This makes indoor playgrounds ideal for evening play for children.

During the day, when it is sunny and warm, we don’t take the children to chain restaurants. We take them to the Parque Central to feed the pigeons, to the playground on Avenida de las Americas, to the Aurora Zoo, or just to walk in the Parque del Obelisco. None of those places, unfortunately, are suitable for evening activities. That is why we end up at the chain restaurants.

Looking for deportees in the Zona 19

About a month ago, I met a deportee, Andy, at the airport in Guatemala City. He was tall, well-dressed, and had his beard shaved into a goatee. He looked as though he had spent most of his life in the US. Turns out he had. He barely remembered Guatemala, as he left here with his father when he was just a child.

Andy told me his story while we were at the airport, waiting for him to be processed. He had gotten into a verbal argument with his girlfriend while they were on the highway. She began to hyperventilate and demanded he call an ambulance. When the ambulance showed up, she told the police officer he had threatened her and had hit her. Andy was taken into custody, and sentenced to six months in jail for domestic violence.

When his jail term was up, the police turned Andy over to immigration agents. Although Andy’s father is a legal permanent resident and Andy qualified for legal status, he had never followed through with the paperwork. He owned his own business in Arizona, and didn’t need a green card to work. So, he let his paperwork slide, and fell out of status. He became an undocumented immigrant. When the immigration authorities figured this out, they placed him in deportation proceedings. That’s how Andy ended up at the airport, after over thirty years in the US, with four US citizen children, and few family ties in Guatemala.

I asked Andy if I could contact him in about a month to see how he was doing. He didn’t have a phone number, but gave me an address in Zona 19 of Guatemala City. I told him I’d stop by in a few weeks.

Today, Nory, my research assistant, and I made our way to the Zona 19. The address Andy gave me is in a working-class part of the Zona 19, not the poorer parts that are on the peripheries, but not the best part of town either. On the way there, we passed through the local market and by a cantina on the corner. There was an old man selling fruits on the opposite corner.

When I got to the address, I was a bit surprised. There was no number on the door, and the place look halfway-constructed. From the outside, it appeared as if the house had a makeshift roof, and the metal door on the outside was composed of several pieces of metal put together. It was clearly the poorest house on the block. We knocked on the door and an old lady answered, through a small hole. She told us she had lived there for less than a month, and that she did not know where the previous occupants were.

We decided to try the neighbors’ door. A woman answered the buzzer over the intercom. Nory told her we were looking for Andy next door. The lady appeared to know who we were talking about, but told us she had no information on where he was. At the house on the other side, a young man quickly told us he had no idea who Andy was or where he lived.

There are several possible explanations for this – the most obvious being that the address was simply wrong. However, the lady on the intercom appeared to know who Andy was. Plus, the new occupant told us she had lived there for less than a month – meaning she would have moved in shortly after Andy arrived.

Nory speculated that Andy may have had to move to avoid extortion. The part of Zona 19 we were in is well-known for its criminal enterprises. It is conceivable that the local extortionists found out that Andy had come from the US and he had to move to avoid paying them.

He might have also moved because the house was in bad conditions, and he could afford to move with his aunt to somewhere more comfortable. Andy spoke perfect English and may have gotten a job in a call center, allowing him to pay for a better apartment.

It is odd that the neighbors told us they had no idea who he was. Andy does not look like a typical Guatemalan, and he would have called attention to himself by his height, his clothes, and his way of speaking. It is unlikely that no one would have noticed his coming.

We will probably never know what happened to Andy, but it was quite an adventure to go out to the Zona 19 to try and find out.

Keeping Safe in Guatemala City without Letting the World Pass You By

People keep telling me how dangerous Guatemala City is. My friend who works for the United Nations told me when she got here, all she heard were warnings about street crime; she doesn’t walk on the streets. At all. Our landlady warned me about most places in the city except for the neighborhood we live in – zona 9 and zona 10. She was robbed in the city center, and doesn’t go there. My other friend has had her cell phone stolen at knifepoint on the bus three times in the past six months.

I am not going to avoid going outside. Venturing out of the house is a fundamental part of my job here. Plus, I’d go stir crazy. So, I do what I can, within reason, to be safe.

Today, I had to meet my research assistant downtown to catch a bus to our interview in zona 6. Unfortunately, I was twenty minutes early, and she was twenty minutes late. So, I had to stand outside at the corner of 9th avenue and 9th street in zona 1 for forty minutes. A gringa standing outside on a corner in zona 1 is something of a sitting duck. My strategy to avoid being robbed was first to try and stand near other people.

There was a bus stop on the corner, so I made my way over there, and stood between the other people. I was constantly aware of my surroundings, although I tried not to appear too paranoid. When three fairly unsavory-looking characters crossed the street towards me, I walked a few yards down, and went into a store. I pretended to browse until they got on a bus and were off.

Once they were gone, I realized I could stand in the very large storefront door and that I was fairly safe there. After about twenty minutes of waiting, I began to let my guard down. There were plenty of people milling around, and there were lots of interesting things going on.

For example, two gay men walked by. One playfully jabbed the other, and then put his arm around him. It was nice to see that they felt comfortable expressing their sexuality in public.

Across from me, there was a large metal door. Every so often, people would approach the door and knock. Someone would open up a small opening and let people through. I have no idea what was going on inside, but it was easy to imagine all kinds of things that might be going on behind that large, metal, unmarked door.

Couples, mothers, children, families strolled by. Others waited for their bus and then were off. I noticed that almost all Guatemalan men use hair gel. Funny how I never noticed that before. I focused my attention on trying to find a man who didn’t. Finally, a hippie couple walked by that was gel-less. They were both super skinny. The girl had her dark brown hair in two plaits, and the guy had big, curly hair that clearly didn’t have an ounce of gel in it.

After forty minutes on the corner, Nory showed up and we got on Bus #3 to go to Mega 6 to meet an interviewee. The interview was fascinating, but that’s another blog entry!

Getting around Guatemala City

Guatemala City is divided into several zones. They start in the middle, and spread out like a snail, going around from 1 up to 15. The spiral snail pattern is a bit off in some places, but the peripheral neighborhoods tend to have higher numbers.

The western outskirts have a few wealthy or upper middle class neighborhoods, going from the fairly well off zona 9 to the quite well off zona 10 to the elite zona 15. The city center is in zona 1. It is a commercial district, but has somewhat of a concentration of poverty. From there, you go to zona 6, a working-class/poor neighborhood. This leads out to zona 18, a poor neighborhood on the southeastern edge of the city.

I am still trying to get a lay of the land here in Guatemala City. Several people have suggested that there might be a concentration of deportees in the zona 6 and zona 18. Nearly 100 deportees arrive in Guatemala each day. Of these deportees, as many as 20 are from the capital. With numbers like these, it should not be hard to find people who have been deported from the US.

My husband, Nando, actually found one already for me. Nando met a guy in McDonald’s who told him that his brother had been deported. Hopefully it will work out for me to be able to interview him.

Oliver, my research assistant, has also suggested that we check out call centers. Since English ability is an asset in these call centers, where international companies outsource their customer service, there may be deportees in those call centers. Oliver has a connection with one of them, so that is an avenue we will pursue.

I took the bus to get home from the city center today. In addition to being a fraction of the price of a taxi, I got to see quite a bit of the city. Similar to what I have seen in other Latin American countries, the bus drivers let people get on the bus briefly to give their pitch, in the hope of getting some money from passengers.

Yesterday on the bus, a woman asked us to buy chewing gum from her for one quetzal. Today, a young man who told us he was HIV positive got on the bus and showed us his ability to cut beautiful swans and butterflies from colored paper. I gave him a few coins, and he said “thank you” to me in English. Then, he asked if I understood Spanish. I told him I did, and he let me know he speaks three languages. It crossed my mind to ask him if he had been deported from the US, but he got off the bus too quickly. Once he was off, two young boys got on and sang a religious song. I had given all of my change to the former guy, so I didn’t give them anything.

I rarely give money to children who ask for it in the streets. They may be orphans, but usually their parents are somewhere, and I do not condone parents sending their kids out to ask for money. It is a very risky situation to put the kids in.

The bus I was on took forever to get me home. It seems that buses here are somewhat independently operated. This means that the driver tries to make as much money as possible. So, if someone is running for the bus, they usually will stop to get their fare. In the US, there is no economic incentive for the busdriver to do that, so they might ignore you.

The drawback to the Guatemala system is that if the bus is full, it will stop at every corner and try to coax passengers to get on the bus. As such, a trip that is 15 minutes by car easily can turn in to over an hour by bus. In my case, that also means more time to observe what is going on in the city.