by Jake Morgan | Mar 22, 2010 | Opinion
On February 5th, 2010 I hopped off a plane in Guatemala City. As our team of eight loaded into our rental trucks only a few things were certain – The air was warm, I was hungry, and we were definitely not in Nashville anymore. After grabbing our first traditional Guatemalan meal at Burger King (“Rey de Hamburguesa” for our Spanish speaking readers), we began our four-hour trek northbound across the country to reach the mountain city of Coban. From what little I understood we would be spending the next two days working with the Kechi Mayans in the heart of Guatemala’s Ulpan Valley. As our caravan pushed further north, the landscape quickly changed from rolling hills to dry desert to the towering mountains of the Baja Vera Pas. If you’ve never driven in Guatemala, it’s hard to comprehend this ride is like. Basically, picture the worst mountain road you’ve ever experienced. Then, cut it down to a two-lane highway loaded with semis and logging trucks. Oh, and from my understanding, it takes at least seven policemen to issue a speeding ticket in Guatemala. This translates to all rationality of a speed limit going right out the window. So, here we are, driving at breakneck speeds down this winding two-lane highway, passing semi trucks while praying no one comes darting around the next corner. Consider it a religious experience. After somehow arriving safely in Coban, we took advantage of our quick journey and got a good night’s rest. The next day we would make the journey into the Ulpan Valley, also known as “The Corridor of Death.” When I had...
