Catching a bus in Guatemala

Looking back on our discussion about taking chicken buses from Antigua to San Pedro I realize I had no idea what I was in for.

I should have known it would be an interesting journey when we did it like the locals and turned a tuk tuk into a clown car, somehow packing three grown adults, 4 backpacks and one massive bag of dive gear into the back seat. Quite impressive when a tuk tuk comfortably fits two people and maybe a small child.

We pulled into the bus yard and spilled out of our tuk tuk right as our chicken bus was about to leave. The bus assistant threw Jay's 25 kilo bag of dive gear on top of the bus as Jay, his buddy Max and I walked up the stairs into the chicken bus, which looked like a converted school bus on acid. We were confronted with a wall of people overflowing from the seats but somehow managed to find three open spots in the back of the bus. Max sat in the last row, propping himself on the edge of a two-seater bench seat where FOUR Guatemalans were already sitting. Apparently there's always room for one more!

As we made our way into the mountains people jumped on and off the bus, most often through the back exit door (what I've only ever used for practice emergency bus fire drills in elementary school). I watched as people ran behind the bus and grabbed for the ladder next to the exit door, and hoped that when it was our turn to get off the bus we didn't have to pull the same moves with all of our bags.

Somehow the bus driver knew we would need at least a couple seconds to get off the bus, because when it was our time to get off we actually came to a complete stop. Stupid gringos!

We waited for our next bus on the side of a busy road in a dusty little town. We followed Max's lead since he's lived in the next town over from San Pedro for the last year and a half and has made the journey back and forth to Antigua dozens of times. He flagged our next bus, which promptly blew by us, barely tapping the brakes. It was our cue to run!

We chased after the bus, uphill of course, Jay literally in bare feet, carrying his backpack on his back and hugging his huge duffel bag of dive gear to his chest (since one of the two wheels had broken off that morning on the cobblestone streets of Antigua, perfect timing). Typing this reminds me of a story my great grandfather would have told me about walking to a store in the snow with no shoes, uphill both ways, etc etc, except this bus story actually happened.

As we ran someone flung open the exit door and the guy hanging off the back ladder started yelling for us to hop on... If only we could catch the bus!

One by one we caught up with the bus and began throwing our bags through the exit door, between people's legs, into the aisle and under the seats. Max was first to hop in and reached for Jay's dive gear as we kept running, which made the rest of the process of boarding a bit easier. I was next to grab onto the ladder, and the bus began to pull me while my legs kept running on the ground... I felt like the RoadRunner from those old school cartoons we used to watch as a kid. In a couple more steps I pulled myself into the bus and made room for Jay to jump in as well.

It was like the scene from The Darjeeling Limited, except we didn't end up voluntarily ditching any of our bags. It wasn't until our third and final bus of the day where that almost happened.

As we got close to where we'd catch our third bus the sky opened up and began flooding the streets. Our bus let us off at its final stop, and we crossed what felt like a small river to get to our last bus that we would take to Lake Atitlan. We boarded through the back door again, and the bus pulled out of its spot in the flooded street right as we were trying to close the exit door behind us...

Apparently Jay's bag of dive gear was just slightly too big to fit in the space at the back of this bus, and as the bus pulled away the exit door popped open, causing Jay to lunge for his bag as it fell half way out of the bus and almost into the flooded street behind us. He grabbed for a random strap which promptly snapped off and ended up looking like a life line to his bag, and I grabbed his waist as I pictured him flying out the back of the bus trying to save his bag that weighs more than he does. Again, stupid gringos.

At the end of the day, once we made it to our cheap hostel in the small volcano town of San Pedro, all we could do was laugh at the ridiculousness that was our journey. I now know exactly what it means to "catch" a bus in Guatemala!