On Our Last Leg

My first impressions of Guatemala City were very bad. We passed through for one night last week on our way to Antigua and my feelings as we arrived for longer were much the same: it was noisy, filthy, grim and crumbling, with dodgy characters on every corner.

After spending a full day here, though, while not fully won over I can see its charms.

We arrived late afternoon and found a hotel in the central Zone 1. It was billed as a basic, comfortable motel style place. And it was clean and comfy enough. But what the guide left out was the noise: despite our room being off the main road, we could still hear the blaring horns and revving diesel engines of the chaotic traffic. People were talking loudly outside and we were on the take-off route for the airport just outside the city. This went on until late and started up again in the early hours. The first thing we did in the morning was move hotel, out to the quieter, more commercial Zone 10 a few minutes taxi from the centre.

Zone 1 is the old part of town. It centres in the main plaza, a huge area housing the elegant colonial style ex-government building, in fact a fine late-1930s pastiché built by a dictator with style. The cathedral is large, plain by Latin standards but very handsome. Outside, the pillars which form the gates and fence are inscribed with thousands of names of those ‘disappeared’ during the civil war. A poigniant reminder of this country’s violent recent past. The elegance is framed by concrete beauties the Soviets would’ve been proud of.

We wandered the square enjoying the quiet weekend atmosphere. A man was preaching. Children chased pigeons. Ice-cream vendors tinkled bells while a woman tried to sell us hats.

Avenida 6a is Zone 1’s main artery. When I’d seen it at night it felt grimy and depressing. But with the weekend bustle of people shopping at the shops and stalls lining the pavement, it felt more like all the city’s life was here. You can buy anything, though mostly dodgy DVDs and CDs.

A few blocks north of the square is a properly bonkers attraction: a relief map of the entire country rendered in glorious painted concrete, built in 1905. The vertical scale is different to the horizontal, giving the mountains a stark vertical rise they don’t really have, and Belize is still shown as part of Guatemala. But it’s impressively huge and amusing, if pointless. It also underlined how little we’ve really seen of this beautiful country.

In the afternoon, we walked back along Avenida 6a to a small park and watched people strumming guitars, young couples out for the day. And another man preaching.

Pollo Campero is Guatemala’s ubiquitous fried chicken fast food chain. We’d so far avoided anything like that, but since it was our last day felt it was time to experience this side of Guatemalan life. The restaurant was like any fast food chain, except with plates and waitress service. I have to admit, the food was pretty good. Less greasy than KFC, though the opposite would’ve been a he’ll of feat.

I felt strange about it: one the one hand it’s a shame that a region with such a different cultural background should find joy in exactly the same junk food experience as America and Europe. But on the other hand, why the hell shouldn’t they? It was better than a lot of the meals we’ve eaten in ‘proper’ restaurants! But the wooly anti-globalisation bit of me died a little when I realised this is the future the world over.

Despite enjoying my day exploring a little, I still can’t say I love Zone 1. Architecturally, it’s a mix of 30s art deco, brutalist concrete, utilatarian throw-up and the odd colonial gem. Many are in disrepair. Places like Havana get away with it, life there seems to go on despite the decay. The decay is due to lack of money but not lack of love. Zone 1 feels unloved. The decay is hand in hand with poverty and the dubious characters that do lurk and give the city a bad name. People leave Zone 1 to go elsewhere at night if they can – I guess like a lot of British cities before the era of regeneration.

Zone 10 is completely different. It houses the best hotels, shiny office buildings, restaurants and bars. It’s a sprawling place, huge blocks split into plots and each plot housing something unique and unconnected to those around it whether it is a neo-classical hotel, shopping mall or high-concept bar and lounge, or even a villa (complete with razor wire and cameras). Clearly there’s a lot of money here, but frankly it could be anywhere. It looks identical to Quito’s new town and probably most of America.

What makes this city, indeed this country, is the people. Unwaveringly polite and helpful. There’s no aggression, no hassle. Walking around, travelling on buses, getting taxis is all easy and enjoyable and the atmosphere is never unpleasant. I doubt there are many Latin cities you can sit in the main square and not be hassled constantly by hawkers and shoe-shine boys (all here, but with no hassle) or where you don’t feel on edge looking for pick-pockets.

So, whether I ‘love’ Guatemala City itself or not I don’t know. But I do like it. And I like it because it feels like it has a good heart.