THE CAPITAL
GUATEMALA CITY long ago laid aside its swaddling clothes. While Boston
was yet a mere village, the capital of Guatemala was the abode of one
hundred thousand people, and was surpassed in importance only by Lima,
Peru, and the City of Mexico. It was the home of some of the most
learned men in Spanish-America, the site of great schools of theology
and science, the seat of the Inquisition and the headquarters of the
Jesuits. The present Guatemala City, however, is the third one to bear
that name, the first two having been destroyed by volcanic disturbances.
It is now the commercial, political and social centre of the republic,
and in it is concentrated the wealth, culture and refinement of the
whole country. Because of its superiority over other Central American
municipalities Guatemala City has been called the “Little Paris,” a
designation very pleasing to the inhabitants of the metropolis of
Central America. Its similarity to Paris is about as great as that of
St. Augustine to New York.
The present city was founded in 1776, just about the time that the
American patriots were breaking the shackles which bound them to the
mother country. The former capital, now known as Antigua, was located
about thirty miles distant, near the base of the volcanoes Agua (water)
and Fuego (fire), the latter so called because formerly it constantly
emitted smoke and flames. Suddenly, one evening, earthquake rumblings
were heard, intense darkness spread over the valley, and without warning
a great deluge of water overwhelmed the city, demolishing the houses and
destroying eight thousand of the inhabitants. It was considered a
judgment of heaven because of certain impious remarks that had been
made. The natural explanation is that the crater of the volcano, then
called Hunapu, had become filled with water, the earthquake rent the
crater, and the water rushing down in torrents acquired terrific force
in its descent of several thousand feet. After the first destruction in
this unusual and terrible way, in 1541, the city had been rebuilt in
grander style than before and the inhabitants rested in fancied security
within the shadow of the lofty volcanic peaks which abound here, and
which fill the visitor with a strange awe. These volcanoes had been
baptized and received into the church and were supposed to be on their
good behaviour. The baptism of the volcanoes did not seem to have a
permanent effect upon their disposition, for another eruption
accompanied by a severe earthquake destroyed the second capital in 1773.
[Illustration: A STREET OF ANTIGUA WITH THE VOLCANO OF AGUA IN THE
BACKGROUND.]
The city of ruins as it exists to-day is a most interesting place to
visit, and several thousand people still make it their home. Nearly
every ruin houses a family who manage in some way to secure shelter
within the broken walls and make a living by carving cane heads or
making the doll images and effigies which are used in religious
celebrations. The images are about five or six inches high, representing
the nativity of Christ and are used at Christmas. It was built on much
the same general plan as the present capital, with narrow streets laid
out at right angles to each other. It was well provided with religious
edifices, for there are the ruins of almost sixty churches that can be
traced. They were all of solid masonry, many feet in thickness with
vaulted roofs, and must have cost immense sums of money in material and
transportation, for much of the material was imported from Spain. Now
these vaulted arches support masses of vegetation, and the bells which
formerly called Spaniard and Indian to service are silent. The grand old
cathedral still stands a sad reminder of its former magnificence. Within
its shattered walls the service of the church used to be performed in
all its solemnity, and the burning incense filled every nook of the vast
edifice with its fragrance. Indians with baskets of fowls on their back,
and Spaniards whose very shoulders drooped with the burden of elongated
names and lofty titles, knelt by a common genuflection before these
magnificent altars.
A number of the old buildings yet bear the arms of Castile and Leon—two
castles and two lions rampant. Some of the images of the saints still
stand in their niches on the façades of the churches, which causes them
to be looked upon with special veneration by the ignorant natives,
because only a direct interposition of Providence could have kept them
unharmed during the frightful undulations of the earthquake. The once
imposing square is now dotted here and there with the huts and booths of
the market people, and the present town is a sad reminder of a once
proud and powerful city. After seeing the ruins you know that the
rickety old coach with its tires half off, which brought you there, and
the harness held on the horses (or mules) by thongs, is just in harmony
with the place itself.
The present capital has been comparatively free from these volcanic
disturbances, although several volcanic peaks are plainly visible in
this translucent atmosphere, which equals or surpasses that of Colorado
for clearness. It is situated in a long, narrow valley with a slight
slope to the east. The hills surrounding the valley are indescribably
soft and beautiful with deep shadowed ravines which contrast with the
green vegetation in the rainy season. The grandeur of the scene is
centred in three towering volcanoes that rise sharp and distinct against
the blue sky—the symmetrical outline of Agua, the serrated ridge of
Fuego and the isolated cone of Pacaya.
[Illustration: THE OLD CHURCH OF EL CARMEN, GUATEMALA CITY.]
From the church of El Carmen, situated on an eminence in the
northeastern part of the city, a fine view is obtained of the city and
valley. This church is made picturesque by the outcroppings of quartz
and the oriental appearance of the building. It is more like a small
fortress, with its little round tower, and the gray stone moss-grown
wall surrounding the hill, than a religious edifice. It is older than
the city, and in the bell tower is a bell dated 1748, more than a
quarter of a century before the founding of the capital at this
location. The interior is dark and gloomy and its walls are hung with
examples of crude art. Behind the church the plain stretches away to the
purple hills. In front and nestling at the foot of the hill is the
capital. The city is compactly built, about two miles square, with
peaked and flat roofs covered with brown tiles, and walls variously
coloured, but rather dirty. The only contrast to the rather dull colour
is the vivid green foliage in the open courts of the houses. Because the
houses are nearly all one-storied, the twenty or more churches appear
unusually lofty and imposing. In particular, the grand old Cathedral in
the centre of the city overtowers every other structure in its majesty.
In another direction, on the opposite side of the city, the walls and
towers of the Castillo de San Jose stand out against the background of
hills and give a semblance of military strength to the otherwise
peaceful appearance of the valley.
Guatemala City is nearly five thousand feet above the level of the
rolling seas and enjoys a wholesome and salubrious climate. Of this too
much cannot be said, for it is truly delightful. With an average
temperature of seventy-two degrees it has no extremes of heat and cold,
and the thermometer seldom varies more than twenty to twenty-five
degrees during the entire year. In the so-called winter season the
mercury rarely goes below sixty-five degrees and the summer heat does
not usually exceed eighty-five degrees. Foreigners who live there and
travellers who visit there fall in love with the climate, and, when once
acclimated, do not want to leave. Seventy-five thousand or more people,
Spaniards, Indians and Ladinos, with a sprinkling of Germans and
Americans, are trying to solve the problem of life and existence under
such favourable skies; and it is no wonder that the strenuous life of
our American cities has few disciples in this favoured valley. Life runs
along a smooth, easy pathway, with nothing to rush you, and it is
equally as impossible to hurry any one else. A newly arrived American
may start out with an impulsive eagerness to do something, but, after a
few futile attempts to hasten results, will soon yield to the inevitable
trend of delay in this land of “to-morrow” and “wait-a-while.”
[Illustration: THE CATHEDRAL, GUATEMALA CITY.]
The city is distant from the Pacific Ocean, nearly seventy-five miles
and from the Gulf of Mexico twice that distance. There were probably two
reasons which influenced the Spaniards to locate their capitals inland;
one of these was for safety and the other because, in these tropical
lands, the climate along the coast is hot, rainy, and fever-stricken. It
was certainly not for the convenience of commerce, for all imports and
exports had to be transported over narrow and rough trails on the backs
of men and mules, for a long period, before a roadway was completed to
the Pacific port of San Jose. Governors and Archbishops, common
Spaniards and humble natives, were obliged to ride over those trails on
the backs of horses or mules, and generally that of the latter obliging,
but contrary, “critters.”
The city is a typical Spanish-American town in architecture, although
recent improvements have taken away the monastic appearance that used to
prevail. The streets are straight and narrow and laid out at right
angles to each other. The ones running north and south are called
_avenidas_ (avenues), and those east and west, _calles_ (streets). The
sidewalks are paved with smooth flagstones and are almost on a level
with the roughly-paved roadway which slopes toward the centre for
drainage. The streets are bordered on both sides by low, one-storied
buildings whose tile roofs once red are now a dirty brown, and whose
plastered walls once white are now soiled and blotched by the pieces of
plaster which have been broken out. The walls are usually of adobe
(sun-dried) brick, or stone, covered with stucco, and are several feet
thick in order to defy any but the most severe earthquake shocks. The
windows are broad and high, and are protected by iron bars like the
windows of a prison cell. If the house is so fortunate as to have a
second story, then a neat little iron or wooden balcony is erected in
front of them. There is one entrance to the house and that is guarded by
great, heavy doors studded with big nails, and fastened with a massive
lock fit only for a mediaeval castle. The keys to these locks are
frequently eight or ten inches long and would fit no keyring that is on
the market to-day. Carriages, market people, and high-born ladies, all
use this common entrance which leads into the _patio_ around which the
house is invariably built. These _patios_ take the place of the lawn in
northern homes and are frequently beautiful little miniature gardens
filled with tropical plants and fragrant with the blossoms of many
flowers. The living rooms all open out upon this court, and here,
sheltered from the wind, the people can bask in the sun when it is cool
and occupy the shady side when it is hot, and thus keep themselves
fairly comfortable without the aid of fires or electric fans.
[Illustration: A TYPICAL STREET IN GUATEMALA CITY.]
The Plaza de Armas, which is in the center of the city, is quite a
pretty square and is surrounded on three sides by public buildings,
while on the other side are retail stores with the _portales_ so common
in these countries. On the north side is the municipal building, on the
west side the National Palace and government barracks, and on the east
side lies the Cathedral and Bishop’s Palace. In the centre is a
delightful little garden surrounded by an iron fence, within which are
many exquisite flowers and pretty plants with wine coloured leaves. A
few evergreens, fountains, a statue of Cristobal Colon, the ever present
band-stand, and an old square stone tower, or temple, with an equestrian
statue of Charles IV of Spain complete the adornments of this square.
Across one side rattle the little toy street-cars, and now and then a
hooded victoria slips through, the top drawn like a vizor over the
inside, so that all you can see is the tip of a chin or a bit of white
parasol. It is not pleasant for the ladies to appear on the street
unless they are very plain.
[Illustration: THE PRESIDENT’S GUARD OF HONOUR.]
In front of the National Palace a company of the President’s Guard of
Honour parades each morning. This organization comprises about five
hundred picked men from the army who actually wear shoes and a jaunty
cap, and their uniforms look as bright as a working-man’s new suit of
blue jeans, and they are of the same material. A good military band
plays, and, aided by the music, the company manages to keep step
occasionally, but only occasionally, for that little matter does not
seem to them very important. Sedate Spaniards, descendants of the proud
hidalgos, and Indians whose progenitors built the great palaces, or
temples, at Palenque, Copan and Quirigua, mingle here, and types of
several centuries may be seen side by side. Customs of the sixteenth and
nineteenth centuries are here intermingled, but the twentieth century
can hardly be said to have reached this city. The Indian with his pack
on his back passes by followed by a mule dray, but the gasoline
devil-wagon has not yet made its appearance in this city, and the
warning horn of the street-cars takes the place of the honk-honk of the
automobile.
At night when the band concerts are given the plaza is a good place to
study the people, for all classes turn out in great numbers and parade
around the central portion. The cock-of-the-walk on such occasions is
the student of the military academy who struts around much-bedecked in a
red uniform covered with gold braid, and with his sword invariably
trailing on the ground—much resembling the peacock on dress parade with
his tail feathers fluttering in the breeze. The young dandies are there
with their bamboo sticks, tailor-made clothes and smoking their
abominable cigarettes. A few foreign drummers or _concessionaires_ stalk
around the plaza side by side with the substratum of _ladinos_ in their
shabby attire. A few families may stroll around with their little girls
in stiff little white gloves and their shy, velvety eyes turning this
way and that without a sign of recognition.
The most imposing of all the churches of the city, the Cathedral, and
the same may be said of all Spanish churches, is elaborately ornamented
with carving, giving it a _rococo_, or overdone, effect, but the
proportions are good. It is flanked by two square towers. The entrance
is approached by many steps and is guarded by four colossal saints
supposed to represent the four evangelists. They are not very saintly in
appearance, being carved out of a very rough coarse stone and very much
weather-beaten. There are also several pillars with urns on top, thus
adding a Roman effect. The interior gives a general impression of
roominess with its fine aisles, but the blue and white effect of the
ceiling is not very pleasing, although different from anything I had
ever seen in church decoration. The floor is paved with stone. There is
a large main altar and a number of gilt side altars with the usual
collection of decorated wooden saints. A number of images clad in gauze
and gaily-hued angels with tiaras are placed within the various altars,
while the Virgin wears a fine velvet gown embroidered with gold thread.
The structure is about two hundred and seventy-five feet long. Adjoining
this is the Episcopal Palace, which has on many occasions been the
centre of political intrigue and sedition before the late President
Rufino Barrios curbed the power of the clergy.
[Illustration: TEATRO COLON, GUATEMALA CITY.]
All Guatemala is proud of its Teatro Colon, the National Theatre, for
the government in these Spanish-American countries considers it a part
of its duties to furnish amusement for its subjects. The building is
modeled after the famous church of the Madelaine in Paris. It stands in
the middle of a large enclosure surrounded by a high iron fence. The
grounds are laid out as a garden with oleander and orange trees and
flowers of many kinds planted in generous profusion along the walks, and
there are several fountains which send out their cooling spray. The coat
of arms of the republic stand out prominently on the façade and there
are numerous other plaster ornaments in relief against the stucco walls,
which are laid out in blocks to imitate stone. The interior is in good
taste and the stage is large and roomy. The government allows a generous
yearly subsidy which enables good talent to be brought from Italy, Spain
and Mexico. There are two tiers of boxes which run clear around the hall
and several proscenium boxes, of which one is reserved for the
President. Silk hats are worn by the men and canes are carried, while
the women wear a few feathers in their hair, but no hats, and much
powder and paste on their faces. During the long intermission nearly
everybody leaves his seat and wanders out into the vestibule to visit
and smoke—even some of the ladies indulging occasionally in this
pastime.
The people are inordinately fond of amusements as are all people of
Latin blood. In this enumeration the bull-fight should not be omitted.
In the large bull-ring which stands just outside the central railway
station all classes meet on Sunday afternoon, and the “_carramba_” of
the Spaniard mingles with the stronger expressions of his fairer-skinned
Anglo-Saxon or Teutonic neighbour. The Spaniard believes that the
bull-fight is an exemplification of the superior prowess of his race,
for the Spaniard is as much superior to all other men as the Spanish
bull is more valiant than all other bulls. The bull-fight in Guatemala
City is usually a poor imitation of the sanguinary conflicts of the
Iberian peninsula. The victims are generally oxen, with perhaps one or
two bulls doomed to the death. The town was all excitement during my
visit, for Mazzantini, the great Spanish matador, was coming to give
three “corridas” with imported bulls. The boat that I came on carried
ten of these bulls in boxes, and the old custodian with his bulls caused
more trouble than all the rest of the cargo, including the passengers,
put together. Excursions were advertised by the railroad and it was the
principal topic of conversation. Everyone that I met, American and
native, urged me to stay for the first great event to take place the
following Sunday. I had seen the bull-fight, however, in all its
horrible details in its native land, and it did not appeal to me even
with the great “Mazzantini” taking part.
[Illustration: A BULL-FIGHT IN GUATEMALA CITY.]
I attended one bull-fight while there in order to get some photographs,
and was thoroughly disgusted. Two bulls of the six advertised for the
occasion were doomed to the death and there were two _matadores_. One of
them was a young Spaniard whom I had met on the steamer. He wore the
lock of long hair on the side of his head which is affected by all bull
fighters, and claimed to be a good fighter. He was agile and leaped over
the bull with a vaulting pole and planted the _banderillos_ quite
adeptly. As a _matador_ he was a failure, and after he had made three
ineffectual attempts to kill the bull, and had buried three swords in
the poor creature’s neck, the crowd became hostile and he was obliged to
leave the arena, followed by the anathemas and hisses of the large
audience. Then my bull-fighting acquaintance, who had given me such a
cordial invitation in the morning to attend the performance, retired in
great discomfiture, and I have never seen him since.
There is a prosperous American club in the city to which many other
foreigners belong, and I was fortunate enough to be given a visitor’s
card. The social life of the expatriated American centres around this
organization and it has considerable influence in the city and country.
It was very interesting to talk with the older members of the stirring
events in the time of President J. Rufino Barrios and his dramatic
method of proclaiming the confederation of all the Central American
republics. There are several hundred Americans in the country engaged in
various enterprises, from promotion to construction, and from
plantations to manufacturing. The Germans occupy the leading place in
the commerce as they seem to amalgamate more readily with the country,
for they come to make permanent homes, while most of the Americans
expect to make their fortune and then leave for Uncle Sam’s domains once
more. A number of Chinese merchants are also engaged in business here
and a few French. Jews are also numerous and a Jewish synagogue is the
only non-Catholic religious edifice I saw, although there is a
Presbyterian Mission maintained in the city.
Nearly every business house runs a money exchange department and the
sign “_Cambia de Moneda_” (money exchange) vies in number with the
“cantinas.” Even the bootblack in the hotel wanted to exchange money and
followed the quotations each day as carefully as any banker. During my
stay it varied from twelve and one-half to thirteen and one-fourth paper
dollars for one in gold with the American eagle on it. Every merchant
was anxious to secure New York, London, or Hamburg exchange. Prices of
commodities varied from day to day, for, although posted in paper
values, they were regulated on a gold basis. Business begins about eight
in the morning and ceases about seven in the evening, but all business
houses put up their shutters and close up tight for two or three hours
in the middle of the day during the siesta hours. You will never know,
however, unless you study the calendar, whether the stores will be open
or not, for holidays and feast-days are many. There is an old saying
that Spanish holidays numbered three hundred and sixty-five, not
including Sundays.
The principal market is a large structure in the rear of the Cathedral,
and has large gates at each corner through which a line of people are
passing at all times during the business hours. The entrance is nearly
always obstructed by women with fruit for sale, whose presence was
tolerable from the fact that they sold it extremely cheap. Every
available space is filled with native merchants—mostly women—who offer
for sale home and foreign goods and a great variety of indigenous
fruits. Vendors outside of the enclosure suspend straw mats on poles for
shelter from the torrid sun. Beneath each one sat a woman or girl with
her articles for sale spread about and before her—a little fruit, some
vegetables, or even some cooked meat. Inside the building one can get a
three course meal of native concoctions for a few cents, or can buy the
luscious fruits of the country, including oranges, bananas, zapotes, or
pineapples, for a song almost. Although the place is generally crowded
there is no jostling or confusion. It would be hard to find a
quarrelsome or disorderly person or any one who would raise his voice
above the tone of polite conversation, and even the babies—of whom there
are always many—refrain from crying. The dealers are all bargainers and
will invariably ask at least twice as much as they would readily accept.
A look of surprise or astonishment at a price given will invariably
bring the query, “What will you give?” There is no such thing as a fixed
price, and yet the lowest price that will be accepted does not vary much
among the different merchants, as I found on several occasions.
There is a second native market in the western part of the city. Near
this market is a road which is the great highway for the market people
coming from lowland and highland. It was a sight that never grew tame or
monotonous to me to watch the never-ending procession of men, women,
children, burros, and mules continually coming to the city, and, on
several mornings, I went out to watch it. Men and women come marching
down the middle of the road in Indian file—the men with great loads on
their backs, and the women with large market baskets on their heads,
filled with fruits, vegetables, pottery, eggs or poultry. Oftentimes
they travel for three or four days to market with nothing but the cold
stones or mother earth at night for a bed. The whole load, when
marketed, may not bring more than a couple of dollars in gold, but they
would consider that pretty good pay for a week’s work. In this way the
fruits of the hot lands are brought to the city by those simple folks in
just the same manner as their ancestors have done ever since the
founding of the city. Sometimes an Indian bearing fodder or other
provender is scarcely visible underneath his load. It is rather comical
to see an enormous box about the size of a small house trotting down the
street on what seems to be its own pair of brown legs. Little boys and
little girls, as soon as large enough, assume their share of the burdens
and carry their little bundles in the same way as their elders. One
writer describes a market woman whom he saw as follows: “She carried an
open-work basket of fowls and ducks on her back on which was also slung
a baby; in her arms she carried a fine young pig, and on her head was a
tray of _tortillas_. As she jogged along the baby cried, the porker
squealed and the poultry made noise enough to drown her own groans.”
[Illustration: GUATEMALAN MARKET WOMEN.]
Numerous public buildings are scattered over the city. Perhaps the most
noted is the University of Guatemala, which has a great reputation all
over Central America. As a matter of fact Guatemala City was noted for
its learning before any educational institution had been established in
the United States; and dust had accumulated on its library before the
first little red school house had made its appearance. This university
has many professors, contains a large and valuable collection of books,
pamphlets and manuscripts, and its museum has a numerous and exhaustive
collection of woods, birds, pottery, gods, and ornaments of the former
races, and stuffed specimens of birds, including a number of the rare
quetzal. There are also Schools of Medicine and Pharmacy, Arts and
Trades, a Polytechnic Institute, hospitals, court house, and many other
institutions of government and justice. The post office is situated in
an old convent confiscated from the church, and the same is true of a
number of the other government buildings now in use.
There are no great parks, but a number of little breathing-places are
scattered over the city that lend their attraction. The Plaza Concordia
is the prettiest of all and occupies an entire square surrounded by a
massive brick fence. Palms, bananas, cacti, flowers, shrubs and large
trees each lend an individual attraction. Broad paths wind here and
there through the park, and on these the people promenade while the
military bands, of which there are several, play popular and classical
airs. Especially is this an interesting place to visit on Sunday
afternoons when the aristocracy congregate to listen to the bands.
The most ambitious attempt at ornamentation is found in the Reforma, a
wide boulevard in imitation of the Paseo de la Reforma in the City of
Mexico. It is ornamented with trees, numerous stone seats and statues,
and a number of fine modern homes face it, thus making it the most
modern vista in the city. The principal statue is a rather creditable
one of President J. Rufino Barrios, who deserves such a memorial more
than any other of her former rulers. There is also a statue of a bull
which seems rather incongruous but probably deserves a place in this
land of bull-fights. The Reforma leads out to the hippodrome, or race
track, and the Temple of Minerva, which is dedicated to popular
education and where a public celebration is held each year to stimulate
interest in that valuable accomplishment.
[Illustration: STATUE OF BULL, GUATEMALA CITY.]
Guardia Viejo, a suburb distant a few miles, is a favourite resort of
the populace on _fiesta_ occasions. Thousands of people at such times
throng the park and the streets in the village and the typical holiday
spirit of good nature and freedom prevails. I had the good fortune to be
present during one of these celebrations and it was an interesting
experience.
Water is brought to the city by two aqueducts running across the valley
for many miles, and the supply is abundant and the quality good. There
are a score of public fountains with public laundry facilities
connected. Circular brick buildings are erected over small sinks which
anyone is permitted to use. First come, first served, is the motto which
is observed, and they are generally in demand. The clothes are laid out
on the grass to dry. According to custom here, it takes a week to get a
washing after giving it out, and even a Chinaman will not do much better
than that.
There is a good hotel in the city in which it was a real pleasure to
rest after experiencing some of the crudeness in accommodation
elsewhere. It is built around a court yard which is ornamented with
orange and oleander trees, ferns, vines and many flowers. Inclosed glass
corridors make a pleasant promenade and dining place. At the Gran Hotel
I encountered a number of members of that strange legion who are always
in active service and on the firing line—those men who go through the
jungle ahead of the railroad and over the mountains before the
engineers. To sell a bit of cotton cloth or a phonograph they are ready
to speak as many languages as a German diplomat. They cross deserts and
run the risk of pestilence, and have more adventures than an amateur
explorer would write volumes about. These men are the salesmen who
introduce the manufactured goods of commercial countries into the
uncivilized and uncommercial lands of the globe. Some of them deserve
medals and even pensions, but they are lucky if they get their names in
the papers when they pass away in some far-off land. Many of them are
very interesting characters and as full of interesting anecdotes of
personal adventures as the tropical jungle is of vegetation.
[Illustration: GRAN HOTEL, GUATEMALA CITY.]
The tram lines extend all over the city but the little “dinky” cars are
almost a joke. The only compensation is the cheap fares which are just
about one cent in real money, but a shilling in the paper substitute.
The city is unusually well lighted with electric lights, and a
creditable telephone service has been installed.
The military element was in evidence everywhere, as, at the time of my
visit, there was an unusual number of soldiers in the city, and parades
were of daily occurrence. The soldiers were not awe-inspiring nor did
they seem to take their duties very seriously. The fort of San Juan is a
rather imposing fortress built in regulation style with moat and
drawbridge, and its adobe walls painted to resemble great stone blocks.
I noticed that the guns all seemed to point toward the city itself.
Prisoners working under guard were to be seen in many places with more
soldiers on guard than prisoners working. At one place, I saw nine
soldiers lounging about and guarding four prisoners who were at work. At
another time there were a half dozen soldiers forming a hollow square,
in the centre of which was one poor prisoner who looked anything but a
desperate criminal. In the country, I have seen them marched along
across country with their arms tied with a rope which was held by a
soldier who rode on a horse. The days of maudlin sympathy with law
breakers has not yet reached Guatemala.
Guatemala City is a perfect place to play with life, cloistered away
from the active world, and yet so near to its bustling stir. The real
world and its manners are here, but there are none of its problems. All
things are reduced to so small a scale that the individual need not
worry. People who have money have inherited it or made it easy; those
who have it not, never expect it. There is no hustling, ambitious middle
class to stir up rivalry and discontent. The people drift along placidly
and, content with what they have, covet not the riches or luxury of
another. The visitor can enjoy life and live quietly, feeling that he
can always go back to the real world whenever he wants to, and that a
few days’ journey will transport him back to the busy life of our great
metropolis.
[Illustration: STREET CAR IN GUATEMALA CITY.]
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