Ixcan isn’t easily found on the map as it is one of the least developed areas in Guatemala, developed in the 1960s rather than the 1500s as were most other parts of the country. Ixcan is just south of Mexico in the northern part of the state of Quiche, bordering the state of Huehuetenango.
Kathy and I traveled north to Coban on a tourist shuttle bus from Antigua. We took the (supposedly) 8 a.m. bus. I left the house at 7:45 a.m., as they sometimes arrive early to pick you up. So I waited…..
While waiting, I had the delightful opportunity to have a glass of warm, freshly squeezed goat milk! I had heard about the goat herders who go around town delivering fresh milk, but only in Jocotenango where I volunteer at The Scheel Center with the God’s Child Project. I had plans while in Jocotenango to one day ask my tuk-tuk driver to find one of these herders so I could fill an empty Gatorade bottle, as I miss drinking milk. (The milk from the store tastes like reconstituted powder milk. Ugh.) So, to have goat herders in Antigua passing me as I waited was a special treat. I received it as an omen of the good to come for this excursion to Ixcan. A man, his son, and 10 goats stopped. The father selected a goat, pulled on its hind leg to secure its stance, whipped out a styrofoam cup, and proceeded to fill it up with a perfect head of foam, sweet and tasty as could be. No foul odor or taste. Delicious! I paid the 5Q (60 cents) and started my morning with a smile at the unexpected delights of this country. When we arrived in Coban at 3 p.m., I was glad to stretch my legs, since I'd ridden on the hump between the two front seats. The van, with its driver and 14 passengers, had wound its way over several mountain passes and through a desert to the northern mountains.
In Coban, we stayed at a Benedictine monastery for two nights, embraced by the generosity and love of the sisters there.
With four suitcases, two backpacks, and a large bag containing cat food and dry goods, we took a taxi to the bus terminal at 5:30 a.m. and left Coban at 6:00 a.m. Kathy had been in the States for the past two months and was returning with supplies. We were fortunate to sit in the front, as Kathy had made arrangements the night before with the driver. I’m not sure how many were crowded in the van with us for the 5-hour ride in 90-plus degree temperatures. The ayudante (assistant to the driver), after several attempts, finally closed the sliding door, mashing the bodies even closer together. Everyone piled off when we reached Playa Grande. Playa Grande is noisy, dirty, and crowded--an old wild west sort of town. Here, we were met by Chus, a man of Santiago Ixcan, the village where Kathy lives. He came to help with the luggage and bring Kathy’s electric bill, which was past due. Lucky for us, the minibus we were riding in from Coban pulled up next to the minibus heading for Santiago Ixcan, and our luggage was shuffled from one van rooftop to the other. We set off on our errands: going to the bank, paying the light bill, and writing a check to Santos, who is part of a group of natural healers who combine Eastern medicine they studied through a healer from China along with local traditional medicine. Ixcan Ministries provided them with a grant to purchase natural medicine supplies.
Lastly, we bought a few vegetables while the minibus impatiently tooted its horn. For the next two hours, we traveled crunched in with 25 others, sweating as the dust billowed in every open window.
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