How to enter Guatemala the cheap way.
Thanksgiving day, November 24th, 2005.
We decided to try an alternate entry point across the Mexican border into Guatemala. Instead of taking the easy, and more expensive way, we decided to pay a boatman a small fee to take us to a little town called La Technica, where we thought there would be some further travel options. La Technica, Guatemala and is a seriously one horse dirt farm town. No Migracion, no regular bus service except for once daily at 10:00am which we missed, and only one hotel. The one hotel is run by these shady brothers who offered to drive us to Bethel, the next town away where Migracion lives, and where the expensive boat goes, for a really high amount. We decided they were jerks, and that even though we had no idea how far it was, we would walk to Bethel.
Let me set this up for you. It was about 2:15 pm, a very nice sunny hot day, we have all of our stuff on us, and we are really in the middle of nowhere. So we start walking, and we walk, and we walk, and we walk. It was uphill and downhill the whole way on a dirt/rock road. We had really expected to just hitchhike, but the problem was there were no cars. We were walking through the jungle, and there were howler monkeys screaming like crazy all around us. If you have never heard a howler monkey it sounds like what one might imagine hell sounds like. Loud, deep, insane screams that rise and fall in volume and have a sort of manic, nervous pitch them. As we walked we would pass huts, with indigenous families staring at us like we were aliens. I do not think many gringos elect to walk to Bethel from La Technica, so we were probably quite freakish looking, and random. Most of the people we spoke to did not speak Spanish, but Quiché, a Mayan language.
Night was coming pretty fast, and it seemed like we were getting nowhere close to Bethel. After about 3 hours of walking we came across a family who spoke Spanish, and we asked them how much further. The reply was crushing, the man of the family said, "about 6km more". We were told the walk was about 6km or so an hour into the walk, we thought that after hours of walking, we were in the home stretch. Both of us were exhausted, we did not pack with long jungle walks in mind, and the approaching night, and the howler monkeys were starting to get to me. Remember, middle of nowhere, no lights, no idea how much further, exhausted, no tent, screaming Satan monkeys, and Megan found a giant dead tarantula on the road at one point. We kept on, and on and the sun got low on the horizon. Very early on in the walk we had been passed by a sort of delivery truck going the wrong way, and a bus, also going the wrong way. The bus stopped and tried to sell us some bullshit tour for the next day, but no ride to Bethel.
On about hour 3.5 with the sun dipping below the horizon, the delivery truck made another appearance going in our direction, the right direction towards Bethel. I told Megan I was going to lay down in the street if they did not look like they would stop for us. I was willing to ride on the frickin roof. They came fast, and pulled to our side of the road, I immediately saw a giant American shot gun, riding shotgun, with one of the three passengers. It made me a little nervous, but guns are everywhere in Central America. The cool thing about these dudes was that they were just going to give us a ride as a matter of course. They hopped out, and sort of like just expected us to hop in the truck, no asking, no talking, just "hey walking people, get in, we will give you a ride, no problem."
One of the three hopped into the cargo part of the truck, took our bags, and they prompted us to get into the cab. We stank, and we were covered in wet, they did not even flinch. I wanted to hug these guys, they saved us from certain death! Okay, not death, but I was about to start crying and flailing on the ground in front of my girlfriend who was holding up better than me if it got dark and we were still walking with the satanic monkeys screaming at us.
So we rolled into Bethel in about 10 minutes of somewhat fast, slow cautious driving due to the really bad dirt road. We thanked them up and down, and they seemed like it was just an everyday thing for them. As if they pick up gringos between La Technica and Bethel daily. Delivery truck dudes, wherever you are, I love you.
Our trusty boatman
The border of Guatemala at La Technica
Megan entering Guatemala
Where we landed from the boat, that is Mexico across the water
So we walked
and we passed some small huts
and we walked
and walked
I love you delivery truck dudes
We decided to try an alternate entry point across the Mexican border into Guatemala. Instead of taking the easy, and more expensive way, we decided to pay a boatman a small fee to take us to a little town called La Technica, where we thought there would be some further travel options. La Technica, Guatemala and is a seriously one horse dirt farm town. No Migracion, no regular bus service except for once daily at 10:00am which we missed, and only one hotel. The one hotel is run by these shady brothers who offered to drive us to Bethel, the next town away where Migracion lives, and where the expensive boat goes, for a really high amount. We decided they were jerks, and that even though we had no idea how far it was, we would walk to Bethel.
Let me set this up for you. It was about 2:15 pm, a very nice sunny hot day, we have all of our stuff on us, and we are really in the middle of nowhere. So we start walking, and we walk, and we walk, and we walk. It was uphill and downhill the whole way on a dirt/rock road. We had really expected to just hitchhike, but the problem was there were no cars. We were walking through the jungle, and there were howler monkeys screaming like crazy all around us. If you have never heard a howler monkey it sounds like what one might imagine hell sounds like. Loud, deep, insane screams that rise and fall in volume and have a sort of manic, nervous pitch them. As we walked we would pass huts, with indigenous families staring at us like we were aliens. I do not think many gringos elect to walk to Bethel from La Technica, so we were probably quite freakish looking, and random. Most of the people we spoke to did not speak Spanish, but Quiché, a Mayan language.
Night was coming pretty fast, and it seemed like we were getting nowhere close to Bethel. After about 3 hours of walking we came across a family who spoke Spanish, and we asked them how much further. The reply was crushing, the man of the family said, "about 6km more". We were told the walk was about 6km or so an hour into the walk, we thought that after hours of walking, we were in the home stretch. Both of us were exhausted, we did not pack with long jungle walks in mind, and the approaching night, and the howler monkeys were starting to get to me. Remember, middle of nowhere, no lights, no idea how much further, exhausted, no tent, screaming Satan monkeys, and Megan found a giant dead tarantula on the road at one point. We kept on, and on and the sun got low on the horizon. Very early on in the walk we had been passed by a sort of delivery truck going the wrong way, and a bus, also going the wrong way. The bus stopped and tried to sell us some bullshit tour for the next day, but no ride to Bethel.
On about hour 3.5 with the sun dipping below the horizon, the delivery truck made another appearance going in our direction, the right direction towards Bethel. I told Megan I was going to lay down in the street if they did not look like they would stop for us. I was willing to ride on the frickin roof. They came fast, and pulled to our side of the road, I immediately saw a giant American shot gun, riding shotgun, with one of the three passengers. It made me a little nervous, but guns are everywhere in Central America. The cool thing about these dudes was that they were just going to give us a ride as a matter of course. They hopped out, and sort of like just expected us to hop in the truck, no asking, no talking, just "hey walking people, get in, we will give you a ride, no problem."
One of the three hopped into the cargo part of the truck, took our bags, and they prompted us to get into the cab. We stank, and we were covered in wet, they did not even flinch. I wanted to hug these guys, they saved us from certain death! Okay, not death, but I was about to start crying and flailing on the ground in front of my girlfriend who was holding up better than me if it got dark and we were still walking with the satanic monkeys screaming at us.
So we rolled into Bethel in about 10 minutes of somewhat fast, slow cautious driving due to the really bad dirt road. We thanked them up and down, and they seemed like it was just an everyday thing for them. As if they pick up gringos between La Technica and Bethel daily. Delivery truck dudes, wherever you are, I love you.
Our trusty boatman
The border of Guatemala at La Technica
Megan entering Guatemala
Where we landed from the boat, that is Mexico across the water
So we walked
and we passed some small huts
and we walked
and walked
I love you delivery truck dudes
3 Comments:
I would have cried the whole way.
SERIOUS PROPS to Megan!!!
Thanks, Molly! I did have a few bad moments after the tarantula...
GREAT STORY!!! THAT makes it REAL! I love it! Along with the photos...
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