Guatemala Day 1

The first thing I saw of Guatemala upon my arrival yesterday was Guatemala City's La Aurora International Airport. Recently renovated and freshly cleaned of the coating of volcanic ash it received just over a week ago, La Aurora is shiny, modern, and clean. It is a much nicer airport than La Guardia, where I had left a few hours earlier. Of course, "nicer than La Guardia" is not exactly high praise; I suppose it says more about New York than about Guatemala to observe that the capital of such a poor country is served by a prettier airport than the capital of the world.

I didn't see much of Guatemala City, but what I saw did not seem like a developing country. The road from the airport toward Antigua, my destination for the weekend, seems to run through the wealthiest neighborhoods, passing mile after mile of new car dealers, shopping malls, and fast food joints (I lost count of how many McDonald's I passed). One reminder that I was in the developing world was the buses: Among all the fancy cars in the bumper-to-bumper traffic were standard-issue hand-me-down buses, some of them painted in bright mosaics, some faded red, overflowing with passengers and spewing exhaust fumes, just like the buses in Bangkok, Manila, and countless other cities across the developing world.

The other reminder was the traffic. According to everything I read before my arrival, the trip from La Aurora to Antigua should have taken between 45 minutes and an hour. After 45 minutes, I was still within walking distance of the airport, and it took almost two more hours to reach my destination.

It was almost 10pm by the time I got settled at the Hotel Casa Cristina, so I put off my exploration of Antigua until this morning. I found a beautiful little town with cobblestone streets lined with quaint old buildings renovated and painted bright colors, all surrounded by stunning green mountains. It feels almost as if I've arrived in Disney's LatinLand.

This afternoon, I found my way to the market, off on the edge of town, which is always fun.

Tomorrow I'm off to Quetzaltenango (aka Xela), where I'm scheduled to spend two weeks studying Spanish and living with a local family. I'm a little anxious about living with strangers for two weeks, so I keep reminding myself that I did the same thing in Paris 23 years ago. If I could handle it at 18, I can handle it now, right?