Dalama Adventures Tale of two corporate types ditching their jobs and traveling the world for 14 months... check out all photos, blogs & interesting tid bits at http://www.dalama.net

We took a half day adventure to a little highland town called San Miguel Totonicapán for their big annual festival, Feria Titular de San Miguel Arcángel.  Most little towns in Guatemala have a special saint that's revered by the town, and we're lucky to be here for this big annual event.  My Spanish teacher is with us for the trip, which is nice for me to keep actively practicing and being corrected.  We hop aboard several types of local transportation to make the hour journey through the hills.  Taking public transportation in Xela is easy.  There's a main road where all the micro-busses seem to pass through.  These are mini vans that are able to pack in about 25 people along with everything you might want to carry with you.  The drivers cruise by with co-pilot hanging off the side of the bus, yelling out the shortened name of the destination they are headed to.  For 25 cents we catch a mini-van to the chicken bus station.  Chicken busses are the most frequently used method of transportation for locals here.  They are old, refurbished school busses that have been sent down from the US and Canada for their "second lives."  Frequently painted in brilliant colors, these busses also have painted slogans professing love for God and Jesus.  Most still have the names of the high school that the bus was donated from.  People are packed in, three to a seat... seats which ordinarily fit two children comfortably now form the seat for three adults, and often children on laps.  And while Guatemaltecos are short, they are also a bit wider, so the third person on the aisle seat gets to balance one butt cheek on a seat and lock bodies together with their other aisle neighbor, keeping each other suspended until other passengers start to fill up the remaining space in the aisle.  God forbid if we need to evacuate, it would be a mass stampede, and even then I don't think anyone would be able to break the "people log jam" so tightly packed inside the bus.  While chicken bus transport is not so comfortable, it does give us the chance to experience the way locals move around the country, and to practice a bit of Spanish.  Even better, today, because it's the big "feria" day, the locals are all dressed up in their colorful wares, with extended family in tow for the big event.  A man boards with his extended family; he's wearing the traditional calzones - colorfully embroidered pants that look like a patchwork quilt, and a faja - a long strip of woven cloth around his waist as a belt.  He's also got a mid length piece of fabric wrapped around his upper legs above his knees like a skirt over the pants.  He's got a gorgeously embroidered jacket and big cowboy hat along with leather sandals.  His wife is wearing a traditional colorful huipil - embroidered blouse with patterns and designs specific to their village, a corte - long colorful skirt made of multi-colored hand woven cloth.  She's got her hair braided in a colorful wrap that tie up on the top of her head, and has a kaperraj - a long cloth that her small baby is wrapped tightly in, clinging to her back.  Their children are adorable and wear similar style clothing, the young boys with hair slicked back and young girls with orange and red ribbon braided through their long hair.  It's a big day out for families here.  We hop off the bus and immerse ourselves into the flow of the local markets.  I think we are the only gringos here.  

The steps of the church are packed with anxious onlookers awaiting the procession to start.  Holy man carrying crosses hold number cards high above the crowd, signifying their position on the procession.  I try to speak Spanish with some guys next to me.  One strikes up a conversation and we're immediately surrounded by a circle of curious onlookers, none of whom speak any Spanish as this town speaks a local Mayan language.  We play with small, curious children, using the camera as a game of "shoot & peek."  Many of them never having seen their digital photo before.  It's a hot day, ironically, as Xela has been cold and rainy.  I typically wear long johns to bed each night and fleece out during the day.  The sun zaps our energy and the crowds of people are exhausting.  One guy from our school group actually passes out, we quickly pick him up and head out through the congested markets.  Our day has been rich with culture and color.  The highlands here are so alive with local custom, and it's great to see they haven't compromised their customs and practices, despite the discrimination many of them face, with the city dwellers trying to stamp out the culture and cause them to become more mainstream.