Guatemala is an absolutely beautiful country. In the three weeks that I spent there I found it easy to travel in as a solo female traveler – the hardest part was getting there!
You know that feeling during travel when basically nothing goes according to plan? That’s pretty much the summary of the start of my trip to Guatemala in the fall of 2015, where I traveled as a solo female traveler. Simply getting to the country ended up being rife with trials and tribulations, and my first steps in the Guatemala were laden with many complications, satisfactions, and awe-inspiring moments. Real on for the tale of my haphazard arrival in Guatemala and the eye-opening experiences that I had during the journey to the city of Antigua – a chaotic start to a thoroughly gratifying solo trip.
Some pre-trip chaos, for context
Before leaving for Guatemala I had been job searching for months, desperately and with few results, while simultaneously working a job that was making me massively unhappy. I was stressed, anxious, and constantly preoccupied by my fruitless job search, made worse still by my relative lack of experience in a tough job market. Ah, one’s early twenties: rich and exciting but so, so turbulent.
After five months of desperate job searching, in the span of less than two weeks I interviewed at a company, got a job offer, accepted, and gave my two weeks notice to my boss at my first job. The following day, I booked plane tickets to Guatemala. I would be on a 6:00 a.m. flight, taking off less than 24 hours after my last day of work. My final week of work was a whirlwind. It was incredibly emotional in a way that I hadn’t anticipated. And in the days leading up to the trip, I did everything. I tied up loose ends at work. I said many goodbyes. I cleaned my entire apartment. I danced salsa. I celebrated my best friend’s birthday. I packed. I cried. And I barely slept. When I walked out of my (then) office on that final Friday afternoon, I was ready to take a much-needed vacation, starting bright and early the next morning.
Mad dash to Guatemala
The morning of my flight, I opened my eyes to the sun streaming through my bedroom window. Wait. Sun? What about the incessant DINGDINGDING of my alarm that was supposed to wake me up in the dead of night? I hurled myself out of bed and checked my phone. 7:00 a.m. My plane was gone gone gone.
So, I sat there for a minute, bleary-eyed and still sleep-deprived in spite of my oversleeping, a broiling mix of negativity. I was angry at myself, at my alarm clock, at the other two backup alarm clocks that I also slept through. Frustration and panic and god, I was supposed to be on vacation right now, damn it! So, I did what I always do when I have life crises: I called my mother. Then I called the airline, and then I got my butt to the airport to fix my mess.
After many different consultations with airline employees and more anger at myself and a reroute through Texas, I found myself back on track and slated to arrive in Guatemala later that night. While I was in Texas waiting for my flight to Guatemala City, everyone around me was chatting in Spanish. The reality of my trip started to sink in. I had chosen Guatemala for a number of reasons, including the practical, such as the cost of the airfare, the cost of travel within the country, and the proximity (just two short flights from my then-home of Baltimore and I would be there), and the more vague: that general gut feeling of wanting to visit Guatemala and a deep curiosity about the country’s life and culture.
Okay, not going to lie – picturesque images like this shot of Guatemala’s Lake Atitlán also may have been a motivating factor in my decision to visit the country
I was also incredibly excited to speak nothing but Spanish for the next 19 days. The last time I had been in a Spanish-speaking country was when I had been living in Spain, about two and half years prior. My time in Guatemala would be limited, and I had (and have) language goals to achieve. My language integration began on that flight to Guate – I was seated next to two Guatemaltecos, and we spoke in Spanish the entire flight.
I wish that I remembered the name of the Guatemalan man who sat next to me on the plane. He was older, and kind. He was genuinely curious about me and my travels. He answered my questions and was happy to provide information about his country. He was also incredibly traditional, and was very nervous to hear that I would be in Guatemala as a solo female traveler.
I think that this is the typical narrative that solo female travelers face anywhere in the world. For countries thought of as tumultuous, the “you’re going alone?” disbelief is amplified. Everyone told me how dangerous it was in Guatemala. Everyone. The articles and blog posts that I read beforehand. Family members and friends, both Guatemalan and otherwise. The people who I bumped into in the airport and on the plane.
Sitting on the plane, hurtling through the sky to land in Guatemala City in just a few short hours, the first tendrils of panic set in. Was I about to face 19 days of hostility, scamming, assault, rape, murder, cataclysmic disasters of epic proportions, all because I insisted on traveling in Guatemala as a woman by myself?
I wasn’t. In fact, I had a lovely time and a very peaceful trip.
But I did walk off of the plane with the words of this man ringing in my head. He told me firmly:
- Don’t let any man talk to you in the tú form, as they’ll take it as an invitation to try and get down your pants (my paraphrase, not his words)
- Don’t walk around at night
- Don’t walk alone anywhere, ever
In the moment, I just nodded my head, but the gears were turning. How was I supposed to not walk around alone, ever, if I was traveling alone? It wasn’t just impractical – it was impossible. But I kept my mouth shut, grateful for the opportunity to get some firsthand input from this well-meaning stranger.
Of course, it did nothing to ease my pounding heart as I got off of the plane. Because here I was, Alissa, alone in Guatemala at, oh! Is it only 8:00 p.m.? Because it was pitch black outside so in my mind it may as well have been 2:00 a.m. The first big challenge, which shouldn’t have been much of a challenge at all, was actually getting myself on the airplane. Now, I just had to make it to Antigua, a small colonial city about 25 miles outside of the capital of Guatemala City. Everyone raves about Antigua, about its charm and its “gringo-friendly” navigability, so like every other tourist who lands in the capital, I was high-tailing it to Antigua first.
Antigua’s beautiful central park (parque central) and cathedral in the background, i.e. what I would have seen my first day had I not missed my flight
Cashed out in the Guatemala City airport
The most practical piece of advice that I can provide regarding arrival in Guatemala is this: there is no ATM in the main part of the airport. I passed one lone ATM as I was trying to beat the traffic to customs. It crossed my mind to withdraw cash, but then I thought, “let me go through customs first, and then I’ll deal with money.” So I went through customs, left the secure part of the airport, and then was left with the task of finding an ATM… turns out, there are no ATMs in the airport entrance. I asked an airport employee where I could find an ATM, and he told me I would have to go back through security. What?
I had zero quetzales (the currency in Guatemala) and 33 U.S. dollars. Somehow, I ended up talking to a woman who worked with a taxi company in the airport. She told me that she could arrange a taxi for me to Antigua, and it would cost some amount of quetzales or 35 U.S. dollars. She also told me that the taxis were completely safe. I explained my predicament. Nothing like arriving a foreign country after a long day of travel with no cash! But all was well, she told me that $33 was fine, and signed me up for a taxi service. Plus, she had said the magic word: “safe.” I approached the taxi, direction Antigua.
The arco de Santa Catalina in Antigua – one of many beautiful sites to see around the city
The winding road to Antigua, Guatemala
Like I would with any taxi in the United States, I greeted the driver and climbed in the back. My taxi driver was listening to the radio – cumbia, of course. Cumbia music would become my soundtrack to Guatemala during the next three weeks. We left the airport and wound our way through Guatemala City. There was immediately so much to take in.
Dark city streets. Peeling advertisements posted up on buildings. Restaurants open to the night air. And people everywhere.
I saw chicken buses for the first time, and lots of them. Chicken buses are the typical public transit in Guatemala, old school buses from the United States that have made their way to Guatemala and have gotten painted and decorated to the nines. I could hear my father’s words ringing in my ears, “Don’t ride the chicken buses at night.” I watched in awe as we passed one chicken bus that was so full inside, that there was a line of men behind the bus, waiting to climb up to the roof.
The taxista asked me if I wanted to sit in the front so we could talk. I smiled. Of course! I was always eager to chat, especially in Spanish, especially with locals. I climbed over the front console and plopped down ungracefully in the front seat. While still navigating the streets of Guate, the taxi driver extended a hand to shake mine. I took his hand and then realized that this handshake came accompanied by a kiss on the cheek. “You’re driving!” I exclaimed, my life flashing before my eyes. “Focus on the road!”
We chatted as he exited the city and we entered the dark Guatemalan countryside. I told him a little about my job and my trip, he told me a little about his family. He was shocked to hear that I was traveling alone, like the rest of the world. As we zipped around the dark curves of the highway, lined by trees, suddenly so far away from the lights of the city, I was struck by a familiar feeling. I thought vaguely how easy it would be for this man, who I had just met and was trusting to get me to my destination, to pull off along the side of the road and rape me. He didn’t. But I had the thought, because I always have the thought, no matter where I am in the world.
He did, however, ask me if I had a boyfriend. Ah, the boyfriend question. I didn’t bother to correct his assumption that I must be straight; instead, I lied and told him that I had a boyfriend. I did it because it can act as a deterrent to men hitting on me. I hate doing this, but it does make me feel safer. Safer and simultaneously angrier, because a fake boyfriend is a safety measure for women, because the invisible presence of a man yields more power than a woman, in the flesh, saying “no.”
My taxista couldn’t believe that my boyfriend would let me travel alone. Ha.
But we overall had a pleasant conversation during the 50 minute or so drive to Antigua. I breathed a silent sigh of relief when we entered the city, and the taxi rumbled down the cobblestone streets. Even in the dark, I could see that Antigua was beautiful. Colorful houses, flowers, charm. I would be spending my first two nights at El Hostal, an awesome hostel not too far from the parque central. The taxi driver pulled up in front of the hostel and got out to hand me my backpack.
I put on my backpack and went to shake the taxista’s hand and thank him for the ride. He looked at me expectantly and asked me for a tip. I immediately turned beat red. ¡Qué vergüenza! In the United States we tip everyone and everything, and I didn’t even have a dollar to give the taxi driver. I felt awful. I stammered, explaining to him that I used all of the money I had on the taxi.
Not missing a beat, he asked me, “¿Un beso?” (A kiss?) Damn it. Why do people put me in these situations? Why am I not better at saying no? “On the cheek”, I told him firmly.
I leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. He kissed me on the mouth.
I turned and walked into my hostel.
First day reflections
I gained a lot from the small moments, interactions, and experiences that I had my first day as a solo female traveler in Guatemala, most of which was spent in transit. Here are some of my takeaways:
- I no longer trust myself to wake up for my flights, so now I stay up all night before early-morning flights.
- When arriving at the Guatemala City airport, I will use the ATM no matter how much I want to get through customs and out of the airport. Also, I will make sure I always have enough money to tip!
- Culture shock comes in small moments, such as watching, wide-eyed, as men climb onto the roof of a school bus in Guatemala City in the middle of the night.
- Some people will read the story about the overly-flirtatious cab driver and laugh. Some people will read it and think, “He was just being an overly-flirtatious cab driver, no big deal!” Some people will read it and think, “Well, what did you expect would happen when you offered to kiss him on the cheek?” My reaction is none of these. Although the exchange was generally inconsequential, in the sense that I wasn’t hurt or traumatized, it wasn’t funny or acceptable. It was an example of a world-wide culture of entitlement, in which another human being felt they could do something with my body without my permission. This is never okay.
- But in spite of that, I was and am okay.
- And this incident notwithstanding, I knew that my trip to Guatemala was going to be special. I was going to learn so much and grow as a person and a traveler. I had no idea of what to expect, but I was pretty sure I was going to have a great time.
And I did!
Happy, sola, and enjoying the beautiful view of Antigua from Cerro de la Cruz during my 2015 trip to Guatemala
For more tales about solo female travel in Guatemala, be sure to check out my posts about Spanish language integration in the city of Cobán, and a (maybe slightly) scandalous narrative about romance in Antigua – or attempted romance, at least.
Have you ever slept through your flight? What was the outcome? Has there been a time when the start of your travels totally didn’t go according to plan? Would you travel in Guatemala as a solo female traveler? Where has been your favorite destination for solo travel? Let me know in the comments below!
14 comments
“I took his hand and then realized that this handshake came accompanied by a kiss on the cheek…”
Somehow it is Dominicans who have this reputation of being “bold” with women… but that man really wins the trophy…that’s what happens when you use the “tú” form… LOL…
I think that the idea that men should be bold with women is pervasive in many cultures. We definitely see that in the United States – how often have we heard that men should be “expected” to make the first move, to go for it, etc.? I don’t honestly know how much using the “tú” form invites boldness in Guatemala. I spoke in the “tú” form with the majority of the people who I meet (but I managed to maintain a conversation in the usted form with an 80-year-old senora, phew!) and I generally didn’t have this issue. It’s circumstantial, and I would imagine related to many different factors, such as age, region, etc. The tú vs. usted issue is also an extra challenge to navigate when dealing with issues of entitlement in Spanish that we simply don’t have to think about in English. I plan on writing more in the future on the topic of language and feminist issues. Thanks for reading and commenting, Ulises!
Well, let me just say that I was kidding when I referred to this taxi guy as “bold”… what he did was totally inappropriate. It’s one thing to be bold with the opposite sex, but once it’s clear that there is not interest whatsoever boundaries have to be respected. Regarding the “tú” vs “usted”: In Latin America “tú” is only for close friends, young children (toddlers/babies) and family. Everybody else is “usted” (although I still call my mom “usted”, even though we’re really close…)
I agree, it was inappropriate! I think an important take-away for me, though, is that this situation is not an anomaly. I am constantly subject to these everyday acts of entitlement, and it’s a pretty common occurrence for so many women. I feel that the appropriate response is critique – of the guy, sure – but more so of the culture that taught him that disrespecting a boundary is okay! I am most equipped to speak to this for the United States, but I also noticed it in Guatemala, which is why I shared this particular story.
And yes, the variation in the tú vs. usted across different countries is so interesting! This also really speaks to how diverse the Spanish language is. I would imagine your take on tú/usted comes from how they are used in the Dominican Republic? Did you notice any difference in how they are used and connotations of their use in Puerto Rico? (You don’t have to answer this, but it’s food for thought :)) I was very surprised to learn that certain countries in Latin America have very complex relationships with the tú/usted forms. In Guatemala the “vos” is also used quite a bit, especially between young people, which has all of its own connotations. By contrast, in Spain I rarely heard the usted form. Everyone used the tú form, even with people who you meet on the street, the guy ringing up your groceries, professors, etc. I’m very excited to learn these intricacies of the Spanish language as I travel throughout Latin America, and the variation of the language in each country.
Gracias por compartir tu perspectiva! (hehe I guess this makes us close friends! – according to DR tú rules :P)
Yes, and more so because I was raised in a very conservative (as in traditional) environment. In Puerto Rico is very similar but I noticed that people will often invite you to switch to the “Tú” saying “no soy tan viejo/vieja” or something like that. I don’t recall ever hearing that in the D.R. Another funny thing is that people switch from “tú” to “usted” during an argument, which I somehow found funny…
And yes, you can of course use the “tú” form with me… I’m not that old… 😀
Alissa, you’re such a great writer. I was smiling and nodding throughout reading this! Thank you thank you thank you!
Also, I particularly appreciate your line: “the invisible presence of a man yields more power than a woman, in the flesh, saying no.” Unfortunate but true. Thank you for being you. You’re a BAMF.
Thank you, Kylie! I really appreciate it 🙂
And yes, very unfortunate but true. I’m curious about your take on the “fake boyfriend” issue. Is that something that you do? You don’t have to answer through comment, but I’m definitely interested in hearing your perspective.
Also, you’re the best <3 Thank you for being so wonderful and supportive!
I have the same fears, too, about sleeping in for early flights. So, I always pull all nighters as I have no problems with sleeping on an airplane. Usually, I book a window seat to rest my head against it while sleeping. Plus, I hate being woken up in the aisle seat for someone else to use the bathroom.
Same same same! Especially if the flight is long, I love having the window seat. I’m a bad plane sleeper but it does help 🙂
What an excellent post! I really enjoyed hear your story and experience as a solo traveler. Great tips and very helpful in traveling to Guatemala!
Thanks, Vanessa! I’m so glad that you enjoyed it and found it helpful 🙂
I can so relate to this experience! I’ve come to accept that mishaps are all part of the adventure (as long as you’re safe). Thanks for sharing your story 🙂
Unfortunately, yes! Oh well! Thanks for reading and commenting, Susan 🙂
LOVE this post!! I’m so glad to read such an authentic post especially in terms of culture shock and dealing with men. I’ll never forget the amount of culture shock I faced in this department in India. I went with my husband and was actually told to be quiet and let my husband speak for our family by a tour operator trying to sell us a package. I think the scariest part about unwanted encounters, even if they don’t get too far is the knowledge that even if you report the advance, not much will get done about it, unfortunately. I am not very brave so I don’t think I’d solo travel in Guatemala, but it’s on my list of places to visit.