This is a new stage of the blog. From now on I will try to write in other languages in order to share with other people. From time to time I check the statistics of the blog and I have noticed that there are people from other countries who are following my publications. This means a personal challenge and the possibility that my stories reach more people.
There is restlessness in my mind. There are many things I want to tell about Guatemala but I decided to wait before talking about it; In order to meditate what I lived in that country, without offending or exaggerating, limiting my opinion to not make any value judgment.
It was our third day in Guatemala and we were recovering from the bus trip from Guatemala City to Flores to visit the mythical Tikal. Upon returning to the capital we were picked up by the taxi driver we met at the airport when we arrived in the country and headed for Antigua.
On the outskirts of the city, as we began to climb mountains; I see a man walking and putting up bags and boxes on the roof of a bus, which was moving at a speed between 70 and 90 kilometers per hour. Suddenly I take the cell phone out of my pocket to take a picture of him. Amazing! It moves so fast that I can only take a picture from a long distance.
Seeing my astonishment, the taxi driver tells me that this was very common a long time ago and that it has been forbidden to do this recently, because there have been many accidents. He tells me sadly that these people play their lives doing this, since they earn little for the work they do.
