Every red circle is a reported road block in Guatemala caused by nationwide riots protesting a perceived stolen presidential election. The country is in an uproar after June’s presidential vote as the president elect’s victory is not being accepted by the losers who are trying to upset the results. So the country is in ferment with ports, roads and border crossings all blocked. A quick look at the map will tell you we have to drive through Guatemala to get south. Therefore we aren’t going anywhere.
The fact is we are in a comfortable spot for $20 a day with all facilities and friends with whom to discuss plans. We aren’t the only ones heading toward Panama so there is some shared perplexity.
At this stage the “bloqueos” (road blocks) are a nuisance and will eat into the extra time we had set aside for tourist activities in Central America but for Guatemalans it’s a much graver problem for people with few resources and no reserves. The question is how long can an economic blockade continue when people are already surviving dsyvto day.
On top of that there is a gang war underway in Chiapas State, the mountainous zone of Mexico bordering Guatemala. The Sinaloa Drug Cartel is in a war with the Jalisco New Generation to control the refugee and drug smuggling routes into Mexico. There has been a great deal of fighting reported near the main MesÃa border crossing into Guatemala with several deaths abd police unwilling or unable to control the mess. So for the moment we have to suffer in our campground which is a very safe two days journey away from the border and here we read books, swim in the pool and play bocce. It’s not that tough for us.
Layne got her stitches out which she had as a present from a dermatologist just before we crossed into Mexico. Her skin cancer spot has healed well and she is free to get it wet in the pool now. To get the stitches out we went up a pharmacy with a doctors office on premises and with no fuss and a few dollars the job was done. You know how you have to fill out pages of paperwork at a doctors office in the US? Here they ask for your name and phone number and then they get to work.
Rusty took over the print shop where got done copies made of GANNET2’s Paperwork which will be helpful crossing the next several
borders. Rusty took control of the situation. Then we drove to the purified water shop to fill our tank.
The lady who owns the place was telling me about her youngest son who is a real headache. He hasn’t been able to get a girlfriend pregnant and he’s 32. He desperately wants a family so he’s got together with an older woman with three children. She has a job the water lady said but she doesn’t do any work after hours and now she has an idiot (“tonto”) to support her she said.
When I left my abusive husband, she went on, I got a job and then came home and ran my sewing business at night so my children would want for nothing. Not her, she said bitterly, she does her few hours and then does no other work. Her dilemma was clear: does she annoy her son by telling him to drop her or does she feel guilty for not saying anything? If we stay long enough we will need more water and I may get an update.
We had a lunch planned in El Tule at a taco stand we have come to enjoy. I think it’s the fatty meat he uses which imparts a surprisingly rich flavor.
Waiting for the bus home:
Our hour tacos cost $3:50 (60 pesos) for the lot and we sat at a table which attracted a couple of local dogs. One even had a collar but I put out some kibbles for them and they ate their fill. Street dogs do actually get fed in this village so not all of them are technically strays. I just don’t like eating while being watched by a hungry dog.
I got Rusty out of the van and took him for a short walk but there were just too many dogs around and he got fed up.
“Talachas” is the local dialect for tire shop:
Then we went by the fruit stand and as I waited in the car I got another of those picturesque sightings typical of Mexican street life. Many Mexicans have cars or failing that motorcycles, but some are still using horses and carts.
The black bag on our dashboard has our papers in case police pull us over. It’s almost invisible and easy to take with us when we leave GANNET2 parked for a while.
Rusty waiting for Layne at the fruit stand in Santa Maria Del Tule.
On the way back we stopped to buy the two campground workers a full sugar coke and I gave a junkyard dog I rather like a bag of food. I wish we were going to the States as I’d take him and find him a home.
And so back to our privileged compound. It reminds me of the French Embassy in the movie THE KILLING FIELDS when the Europeans in Phnom Penh take refuge from the Khmer Rouge conquerors. Mexico is warm and welcoming of course but in here we live by the rules of middle class privilege with comfort and security and well fed dogs living worry free for the most part.
I have no doubt Rusty remembers his own life on the road. I wish I could adopt more dogs.
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