This tale takes place in Semuc Champey, a natural monument in the heart of the Guatemalan jungle. It consists of a natural 300 metre limestone bridge, under which passes the Cahabón River. Atop the bridge is a series of stepped turquoise pools. However, our story is less about mother nature and more about the resourcefulness of the youth in this far away place. I suppose this is your typical supply and demand situation. Tourists come here for the natural wonder and the locals find what they need and sell it to them.
Being so far into the hot, humid jungle, we were after cold beer. Of course this was not our first priority, we needed a place to sleep after the arduous journey. In the morning, as we left our bungalow to wash our breakfast dishes, a small boy came running to the fence. He must have only been about 6 years old but his english was good. “Hello, what is your name? Do you want to buy chocolate?” says the young boy. We reply with a, “No, gracias.” Then he started speaking our language. “How about beer, do you want beer?” After a brief exchange we learned his beer cost less than half of what the restaurant offered. We were happy with that and told him to come back a little later. As he ran away, he shouted “My name is Louis and I promise you can buy beer from me!”
Later that afternoon I waved to the group of boys hanging out by the river and held up 4 fingers. It didn’t take long for me to realize that this was not a joint venture. Quickly I was being handed cold beer through the fence by an older boy, maybe 13. Ronaldo was his name, and just as Louis had done, he assured me that he would take care of all my beer needs. I missed Louis’ slower approach while talking to Ronaldo. I looked down and seen him, cold beer in hand, staring up at me with teary eyes and a look of betrayal. I promised him the next round would be bought from him. When that time came Ronaldo was the first to the fence. I explained I had to buy beer from Louis now and they could take turns. Just like the seasoned salesmen that he is, Ronaldo quickly explained Louis was not selling beer, only chocolate. Louis was no where to be seen so I bought the beer from Ronaldo. Not more than a second after our exchange Louis pops into sight running with beer in hand. Jokingly I thought to myself, “Damn you Ronaldo, you sneaky little bastard! And, damn your small little legs Louis!” I bought Louis’ beer anyways and was certain afterwards there would be some adjustments made in the bridge boy food chain. This was confirmed later when we didn’t see Louis for the rest of the day.
And so it went for the next few days. One afternoon we were sitting riverside, quenching our thirst, with our two Canadian amigos, Russ & Freddie. There were two young brothers quietly hanging out nearby, happy to keep our drinks full. Towards dinner time we asked if they knew of a ‘comidor’ (a local eatery) close by. They said yes. Well actually they said, “Si, no hay problema.”
Hungry and excited we followed the boys down the road, then 5 minutes up a jungle path, straight into their family kitchen. It must be somewhat of a normal occurrence bringing stray gringos home for dinner because they did not seem surprised. The experience that followed was one of the most authentic of our trip so far. As the mother and daughter worked grinding black beans for dinner and corn for fresh tortillas, we sat talking to Domingo, the father. He shared our love for Brahva, so the boys ran to fill an order. At one point the girls got up to take a stab at grinding corn, and hand pressing tortillas. I thought it was a solid effort but the family broke out into laughter right after the first pat of the tortilla. Following the delicious dinner we had a round of hilarious photos and said our goodbyes.
The next day we needed more of these delicious tortillas, so we had the boys fetch us some. Mmm. Two days and four large orders later we found ourselves staring down the dark road toward the families home. Our curry dinner was getting cold, but surely we couldn’t start without our tortillas. Running it over in my mind I confirmed the order, 20 tortillas at 6pm. It was now 7pm. Maybe we will wait a few more minutes. That night they never showed up. I now know how Louis must have felt when I didn’t buy his beer.
We were happy to have helped the local community in our own way. The beer at the restaurant was overpriced. And we realized that it would have been possible to walk down to the small store ourselves to buy cheap beer. But we were happy to temporarily employ these resourceful young kids.
*Louis was later confirmed unharmed.