Encounter on the Street: Guatemala highlands between Lanquín and Semuc Champey

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It is afternoon and the sun has started to cast long shadows. I just spent the day bathing in the beautiful natural pools of Semuc Champey but instead of taking the bus back I decide to walk back to Lanquín. The scenery is astonishingly beautiful: lush green vegetation, steep hills and rocky mountains in the distance. But I had another motivation for talking this afternoon walk: this is an extremely remote part of Guatemala (no paved roads) and not many people speak Spanish but their indigenous dialects and I wanted to see a bit more of these people’s rural life styles.

An old man appears behind a curve walking in my direction on the other side of the street. He is dressed typically in long pants, shirt, hat and carries a long machete. We exchange greetings as he passes (Buenas tardes). I have been wondering about these strange looking plants on the side of the street for some time so I ask him if he knows what these plants are called. He stops and obviously looks at me puzzled. I repeat my question, thinking it must be my German accent he does not understand. Finally I realize that he does not speak Spanish. I point to the plant and he understands. He yells out something and before I know it his family appears from somewhere behind the thick green jungle. His wife, also dressed traditionally in a skirt and a knitted shirt, breaks off a piece of the plant and brings it to me. 5 children, I guess between 3 and 8 years old, rush towards me with curious smiles. Most of them are naked, the older ones wearing a pair of shorts or an old ragged T-shirt, the younger ones wearing nothing. Their bodies are more or less completely covered in dirt (they either had a lot of fun playing in the mud that day or have not washed in a very long time – I fear the ladder). While husband and wife try to describe this plant to me, the children stand around me in astonishment, giggling after every world I say as if it was a joke. They finally break open the fruit of the plant and rub some of the seeds against each other. I do the same, my hands turn red. I conclude that the plant is used for paint of dye. I paint a few stripes on my face, which the children find terribly funny and then bid farewell to the family I have only met 5 minutes earlier.

As I continue my walk I am deeply moved by this encounter: their poverty, their shining eyes and wide smiles, their helpfulness and their simplicity.