Quetzaltenango

Our next destination, Quetzaltenango, Xela for short, is a 3 hour drive through more volcanos, cultivated fields and small towns. It’s the second largest city in Guatemala, but still relatively small with about 160,00 inhabitants. I am surprised to learn that Guatemala is the most populous country in Central America. The places we’ve been are not very large and even Guatemala City has only just over a million people.

Xela is at least 2000 years old, originally inhabited by Mayans. The 16th century Spanish conquest began a centuries long colonization that ended with Guatemala’s independence from Spain in 1821.

The architecture suggests past glory, especially evident in the many carved wooden doors and elaborate churches. The city was quite prosperous in the 1800s, thanks to coffee production. It is also referred to as Cuna de Cultura, meaning ‘Cradle of Culture’, owing to the number of noted artists, writers, and other creative people born in here.

Craig & I are both recovering from bouts of belly bugs and not in the best of spirits. However, we are immediately buoyed upon arrival at our VRBO townhouse in central Xela. The street it’s on looks pretty rundown but behind the garage doors and through the courtyard is a compound of several newly renovated units that could not be any nicer. Clean, beautifully decorated, with a small sunny patio, the place even has laundry facilities. Sometimes the universe sends you what you need just when you most need it!

https://loft-nuevo-localizado-en-el-centro-histrico-xela.guatemalacity-hotels.com/es/?from=2024-12-08&to=2024-12-09&adults=2&children=0&clirder=1

Ana, the caretaker, lives right next door and is very helpful. And at $90/night it is a real bargain. Guatemala is not as inexpensive as you’d think for such an underdeveloped country and we’ve been a bit shocked at the restaurant and transportation costs.

We shlep out to a nearby market and stock up on provisions, excited about a couple of packages of dehydrated chicken soup and a decently soft french loaf. As we have a full kitchen and are still going easy on our bellies, we mostly cook for ourselves. A chicken roastery and veggie market in our ‘hood supply ingredients for some tasty meals.

At a mile and a half high, the weather at this time of the year is warm during the day, but downright cold at night. I’m glad I packed a pair of thermal underwear. Not that we go out much after dark. Apparently there is a government of Canada website with Xela listed as dangerous; best to stick to daylight hours and busy places. As well, the altitude is making us a bit short of breath and we are tired by the end of the day.

It’s a Latin American city not unlike others we have been in. Churches and markets, traditionally dressed locals, textiles and ceramics shops, taco stands, little tiendas, and rows of one story cinderblock and stucco dwellings. Unfortunately the streets also feature listless dogs, un-picked-up dog shit, dust, construction debris, plastic bags & bottles, rotting food and various other forms of garbage. Not too many quetzals though. Well, none, in fact.

The Quetzal has long been significantly important for the ancient Maya and Aztecs. Their feathers were considered luxury goods to represent high status and are often seen in the headdresses of the emperors and other costume elements. The name is derived from the Nahuatl language and means long brilliant tail feather. We saw a few in Panama on a bird-watching hike and they are both gorgeous and elusive.

Our first full day here is a Sunday, many shops are closed, there’s less vehicular traffic, more strolling families, and a parade around the central square. We wander without an agenda, finding ourselves on small streets and then up a hill to a church and a bit of a mirador.

Another day we taxi to the top of the municipal park for panoramic views and take a forest bathing walk down. Then it’s back to the central square, rather grandly called the Park of Central America. Here we find a shady spot to sit and watch families feeding pigeons, vendors selling fresh fruit, elderly couples all dressed up and walking hand in hand. What we don’t see are other tourists. Maybe it’s the off season. Or maybe Xela is too far afield for a lot of travellers. Whatever the case, the vibe here is very relaxing.

They say all who wander are not lost and while that may be true, sometimes being lost is the best gift. We spend our last morning adrift, looking for a couple of elusive art galleries, using a map that may or may not have been accurate, and ultimately stumbling into some remarkable experiences.

In a modern area of Xela that we had no idea existed, the spires of a shiny white Gothic church beckon. As we get close a massive street market suddenly appears, bustling with shoppers, vendors of all manner of merchandise, including fake Christmas trees & wreaths (these in a country rife with greenery), twinkling lights and ornaments, fur coats, stylish clothing and food galore. Fresh fruit, all nicely peeled, cut up and put in small plastic bags, makes a great lunch, one we hope we won’t regret in 4 – 6 hours time.

We’d given up ongoing to the Museo de Ixkik del Traje (costume/outfit/garb) because the trip advisor reviews were pretty bad, with complaints running the gamut from “the guide spoke no English” to “you have to phone ahead and make an appointment” to “there are no lights and you have to use your phone flashlight” to “ the bathrooms are appalling”. The latter turns out to be true and if the bag of fruit doesn’t get me the bano will.

Serendipitously the traje museum is where we thought the railroad museum would be, there is no railroad museum, just an old railway station which houses the traje museum, it’s open, the guide speaks Spanish that we can actually understand, i.e, slowly & clearly, and the windows let in enough daylight that we can see the displays. A few rooms have no windows, but the guide kindly provides a flashlight. The only downside is the bathroom. It truly is appalling.

Resolved to continue looking for the art galleries, we carry on down the street. A large crowd catches our attention and I notice some of the young women in the group are wearing what appear to be traditional winged nursing caps. Maybe a graduation celebration? Estan enfermeras? I ask. Si, si! I’m told. Newly minted grads and their families, laughing and taking photos, hugging, a few tears. Such an uplifting scene. One group wants me in their photo. I look so out of place in my hat & sunglasses, Frida Kahlo tee shirt and Teva sandals but they don’t seem to mind. I manage a few “felicidades” as they hug me.

By now we are thirsty and, having logged well over 10,000 steps, head back to the central square and out of the sun, into a slightly shabby but hugely atmospheric bar. Salon Tecun, dating back to 1935, reeks of history. The ghosts of the past feel very near and as I am waxing poetic about how amazing it must have been to have lived back then, Craig reminds me that Guatemala was a banana republic dictatorship in those days and may not have been as much fun as I am imagining. Such a buzz kill!

We never do find the art galleries.

After three days in Xela we’re ready to move on. The guidebook describes it as the most charming city in the Guatemalan highlands, a bustling, vibrant gem. And we do enjoy our time here. But … we can’t help but wish that a crew would come in and clean up the garbage, repair the sidewalks, restore the buildings, care for the dogs, and generally spruce the place up a bit. And while they’re at it, get rid of the MacDonald’s; it just doesn’t fit in. Some emission controls on the buses would help too.

Next stop is Chichicastenango (another mouthful!) and its famed market.