The ride to Xela

Leaving Antigua, my shuttle has two other passengers: a quiet German girl also heading to Xela, and a (young?) local man heading to Panajachel, the most populated town near Lago Atitlan.

His name is Gioranni. At first, I think he´s about my age. A pony tail hangs under his baseball cap and his beard is neatly trimmed. He wears a t-shirt and knee-holed jeans and carrys a guitar. His energy is boisterous and youthful. He jokes around with the driver who soon recognizes Gioranni as a member of a band he drove around on tour. Gioranni laughs at the realization. In good English, Gioranni tells me the story of his bands good-natured harrassment of the driver. The driver demanded that they not spoke pot in the van, but when they said the alternative would be to stop every 15 minutes for their habit, the driver acquiesced.

Gioranni and I talk music. He gets excited when I mention I´m from Portland (one of his favorite bands is Modest Mouse) and I suggest a few local bands for him to search.

Eventually, he takes of his hat. The top of his head is completely bald. "I moved to Pana from Guatemala City 20 years ago," he tells me, "after I saw how beautiful and laid-back it is." So that must put him in his late thirties in solar years. But his energy is so much younger than that.

Dropping him of in Panajachel, he gives me his number and tells me to call him if I come back through Pana. I plan to do both.