Return from Guatemala, part 5

(Hi Ho, Sid, the frog, reporting here at Prairie Sings . . . .)

 

Life in the Village

I don’t think the Catholics got a permit from the local Architectural Review Committee before they built the mission here in Chajul.  It sticks out a bit.

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The inside is a bit different too.

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A common scene in the village, kids peeping out the windows of their houses to see the gringos walk by.  Even the shy ones eventually shouted “Hola.”

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A few ladies coming down the mountain with the day’s firewood.  Careful not to trip on the pig.  We were never sure who this pig belonged to, but it was always napping in the street out in front of the church.  You could talk to it and pet it… it didn’t care.

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Too young to swing a machete.

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A typical house stove.  It looks like they tried to set it up so the smoke would have a window nearby, but it was hard for us to stay in the houses when the fire was going.

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There were at least 2 houses in the village that had a grinder/smasher machine.  It was a small gasoline-powered motor (or diesel) turning a belt, which turned the grinder.  The motor’s muffler typically stuck out a window and blew smoke in the street.  Every day, the ladies of the village would line up to get their grains smashed.

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A tuk-tuk, basically a motorcycle with a shell built around it, and 2 wheels on the back.  This was the local taxi industry in Chajul.  They were everywhere.  The guy to the left, pushing the cart… he’s the ice cream truck.  Some of them sold pre-packaged snacks like Nutty Buddies.  Others had homemade frozen juices in plastic bags.  Someone in the village clearly has a freezer, but we never actually saw it.  Some of the ice cream carts had hand bells, while others actually had an electronic source of tacky music.

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You don’t need to catch a tuk-tuk if you know someone with a Toyota pickup.  Apparently a lot of people know this guy.

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