We started our morning after 7 am and not because of the 10 kids who live in this building with us. Somehow they manage to keep them quiet in the wee hours on the weekends. We putzed around here for a portion of the early morning because we wanted to be in Antigua for lunch. Don's scheduled activity (Joyce he still has that list running
After we had our lunch we again scoured the mercado for the tableware that we are currently using but does not belong to us. There is nothing much about the tableware that makes it special except that the 'steak' knives will slice through broccoli and cauliflower like they were butter. I want a set to take with us to Xela but so far we have not found them. We poked our heads into several vendor tienda's (little shops) and just enjoyed the browsing and the people.
Don had the bright idea to walk to Jocotenango at the edge of Antigua where the coffee finca is located and that we have visited. Of course I was not in the greatest of moods by this time because I am still getting over the altitude sickness so I stomped for a long time behind Don fuming. We got a bus for the last leg of the trip which wasn't far but was hard for me to climb uphill and still breath.
The game field was a bit small to my thinking for any kind of ball game. However, the game was introduced as more of a religious ceremony and that the conquering Spainards thought it was connected to witchcraft and would not allow the game to be played. The traditions and rules of the game have been passed down generation to generation by word of mouth. Three young men were dressed in traditional garb and they played a portion of the game which could have lasted as long as three days in times past. Using only knees, tummy, elbows, forearms they had to get the ball through a ring on a wooden background. (Picture the ring like a nose ring--that is how it stood out from the wall). It was a lot harder to do than one might have thought. There is some research left to do to prove or disprove that the loosers of the game were sacrificed. There is not enough information to confirm so they prefer to leave that part open ended. At any rate we enjoyed the game then we grabbed a chicken bus and returned to Antigua for dinner at McDonald's (my tummy won't tolerate native food right now).
Now for the CHICKEN: I refused the first bus headed our way as it was already too full. The second had lots of room and we boarded and found seats at the front of the bus. This line of buses will only deliver us to the head of the cemetery as it turns there to go on to Duena's a piece down the road. I was happy about the front row seats. I was the third backside in the first seat next to an older couple. Of course when you are riding shotgun you must stand, wriggle, and aide any more boarding passengers get past you to stack up in the rear of the bus. One family got on the bus with a pinata----in the form of a chicken, maybe----all that was visible were a pair of orange legs and a white body. I made some comment about a different kind of chicken and that older lady laughed. A short way down the road the 'chicken' came loose from it's mooring next to the driver so I stood and re-hooked it. I had to tend to the safety of this chicken. Believe it or not but the young family got off of the bus with their chicken still in one piece! We were the last two people on the bus and we were lucky that this driver knew his highway and that he could both turn around to head back to Antigua and drop us off at our stop at the same time. We thanked him and his ayudante and exited at our stop.
On the short walk home we began to feel a few raindrops on our heads. Don said we needed to pick up the pace so I suggested he whistle us up some marching music. So he did and using his walking stick as a drum major would we picked up the pace. Shortly, coming up there road toward us was a panel van with hugh speakers on the top playing some music so I did a little bit of the dance Gianna and Cos do on the side of the road and a pick up passing gave us a bit of encouragement as they passed and the panel van played another tune as they went by. The Guatemalan people do know when to have fun.
