Destination: Guatemala : Magical Mayan Market : At Chichicastenango’s Legendary Open Bazaar, Indigenous Indians and Guatemala City Merchants Mingle Their Wares and Their Cultures

“You want to see a chicken sacrifice?” asks 11-year-old Sebastian, one of Chichicastenango’s few English-speaking residents and a young entrepreneur. “I’ll take you. What’ll you pay me?”

Sebastian approaches me outside the heavy wooden doors of Santo Tomas Church holding the hand of his younger brother, a scrawny boy with a dirt-streaked face and Cheshire grin. Below, on the church’s flight of wide, semicircular stone steps, an old man swings a hand-held burner oozing sweet, resinous incense. Smoke wafts into the market below.

Each Thursday and Sunday in Chichicastenango--a mountain village of indigenous Mayas in Guatemala’s western highlands, about 90 miles from Guatemala City--one of the country’s largest, most spirited open markets unfolds. Overnight, the dusty dirt square that is the village center transforms into a shopping mecca as regional Indians--mostly the Mayas known as Quiche--and Guatemala City merchants peddle textiles, wood carvings, furniture and jewelry from rows of wooden stalls. For sale are both estranged heirlooms lingering from a time long past, and items newly introduced to this world in the name of commerce; antique huipels (traditional indigenous blouses) heavy with handstitched embroidery hang beside new button-down shirts cut from vivid Guatemalan fabrics. Carved wooden religious figurines, smooth from decades of wear, are found beneath piles of new, brightly painted turista masks as ubiquitous as Mousketeer ears at Disneyland.

I have come to Chichicastenango from Panajachel, the cliquish, cultish resort town on Guatemala’s Lake Atitlan, where American expatriates--many long-haired and particularly fond of the Grateful Dead rock group--cavort with European tourists against the stunning backdrop of three majestic volcanoes. The journey takes about three hours on one of the old American Bluebird school buses I love so much--buses reincarnated into Guatemala’s primary transportation via a rainbow of paint.

We twist along the narrow mountain roads that pass through ravines and canyons, past tiny, thatch-roofed homes. Children playing alongside the road wave, except for some little girls who, in their wrapped skirts held by embroidered sashes, clutch baby siblings against their straight bodies and stare.

I have come to Guatemala twice, via Mexico (where I have family in the capital). It is, in my unscientific, visceral estimation, Central America’s most beautiful country, with its imposing volcanoes, mountain lakes and jungles. For me, Chichicastenango’s particular enchantment comes from a “magic realism” that makes visiting here like a time-travel to a Shangri-La, where ancient mysticism waltzes elegantly with the secular world. This fusion of the spiritual and secular is a romantic notion for many tourists, but commonplace for indigenous Guatemalans. Sebastian’s invitation was to go to Pascual Abaj, a stone idol atop a hill less than a mile from town. Afternoon ceremonies at this sacrosanct site embrace candles, incense and chicken sacrifices for anyone willing to make the vigorous climb up the steep hill to its location.

And inside the whitewashed colonial Santo Tomas Church (built about 1540 on the site of a Mayan alter), shamans practice their hybrid pagan and Catholic rituals amid clouds of incense, and candles, flowers and liquor offerings.

Each of Guatemala’s 30 Indian tribes possesses distinct weaving patterns and attire. Most resemble exploding rainbows. On Santo Tomas’ steps, flower vendors surrounded by Calla lilies wear pink and green skirts and floral shirts. Multicolor blankets lie atop their heads, cushions for balancing their baskets. Some men top red-striped pants with brown-and-white checkered skirts. Wide-brimmed “cowboy” hats cover their heads.

Lodging in Chichi (the understandable nickname) ranges fiscally from the pricey Mayan Inn, with double rooms for about $80, to the more reasonable Maya Lodge ($30 for a double), and finally, to small hotels and pensions that offer clean rooms with great views for just a few dollars.

As I disembark that late afternoon from my bus, four young boys clamor with offers to carry my bags and show me accommodations. The appearance of four loud, hustling 10-year-olds initially startles me, but I have no waiting accommodations, and so I enlist one. I tell him my price range (inexpensive) and, for a few quetzals, he leads me to a clean, friendly pension with rooms for $5 a night. After a brief rest, I walk to the square to watch the activity.

On market eve, merchants prepare. As the sky darkens, adolescent boys climb the town’s steep streets carrying wooden, T-shaped stall frames on their backs like crucifixes. Chichi’s surrounding canyons and pine-bristled hills are clearly visible in the fresh, thin air; morning fog often shrouds them. In a cluster of food stalls in the square’s center, young girls in matching huipels fan fires and wash dented pots blackened by age. All the while, Indians stream in from outlying areas with produce, dismantled furniture and sleeping babies strapped to their backs. The buses that continue to rattle in from Guatemala City and Lake Atitlan bring more.

When the sky becomes black, I go to the Mayan Inn (considered by some the country’s best hotel), a 60-second walk from the market. Here, European and American tourists sip margaritas and martinis in the oaken bar as a mariachi band plays in a manicured courtyard garden. I drink a beer on a bench around the courtyard’s perimeter and watch hotel waiters, dressed in their traditional Quiche outfit of black woolen knee pants, red sash and red scarf tied around the head, pad about silently like well-groomed pirates on good behavior.

On market day I awaken to the hoarse crows of caged roosters. By 5 a.m., the food stall girls scoop steaming weak, sweet coffee from canisters for me and the few other bleary-eyed customers. An old woman with a pail of corn meal lugged from home forms tortillas on a grill behind the counter in her little stall. Though the hotels have their own dining rooms, the market stalls offer simple, inexpensive fare of such freshness that one should take the opportunity to sit at the low benches and enjoy a steaming bowl of vegetable soup and corn tortillas pulled hot from the grill.

Food continues beyond the central food court. In a large building bordering the market, produce is sold. The endless mangoes, papayas, pineapples and yellow and red bananas (the rich, dense “cheesecake” of this fruit) spilling from baskets here--succulent symbols of Guatemala’s color and fertility--render me slack-jawed. Perhaps it’s the setting, but the produce seems bigger, brighter and more luscious than fruit found in any supermarket. In the market, bakers set up wooden cases and stack their breads and cakes, usually dense and dry, but always satisfying.

Though the market’s heart pulses in Chichi’s plaza, its arteries stretch the village’s narrow streets. Early morning is the best time to gain a sense of its scope. By 10 a.m. it is congested as the regional shoppers, merchants, tourists and children wander through the labyrinth of wood stalls. Some women spread their weaving on sidewalks like a 10-course feast. “You buy, you buy,” they chant in their only English. One woman wears a chicken wrapped in a blanket on her head like a crown.

American importers embrace Chichicastenango for its vivid clothing and accessories, so popular stateside in ethnic-product shops and on college campuses. The importers--as plentiful as celebrities in Aspen--are easily recognized by their flawless Spanish and crackerjack maneuvering about the market. One tenacious importer barters half an hour at a stall before stuffing hundreds of woven bracelets--friendship bands--into his duffel.

At other stands, masks and carved religious icons are popular with tourists searching for affordable art. But those looking for authenticity should beware: Artisans carve fantastic reproductions of ancient masks, bury them for a year and sell them as originals. Still, authentic pieces increasingly leave in tourists’ baggage. “Soon none will be left,” bemoans one Guatemalan art dealer.

I discovered quickly that items are rarely priced. Instead, vendors arbitrarily announce prices depending on what they feel they can get. One either complacently pays the price stated, or learns the art of haggling.

Before a mask stall, an American shopper in his 20s sits cross-legged and stays for two hours. Each piece is examined. He and the vendor become friendly, but their careful bargaining evokes a game of chess. The vendor’s wife is introduced. More masks are examined. Prices and offers are tossed out, absorbed and digested for 20 minutes. Finally, the shopper, a Midwestern artist looking for authentic masks, leaves with three artifacts for less than $10.

As for Sebastian, when I turn him down for the chicken sacrifice, he willingly allows his brother to be photographed for one quetzal. Money and brother in hand, he then disappears into the crowd, in search of another deal.

GUIDEBOOK

Choosing Chichicastenango

Getting there: Chichicastenango is about 15 miles northwest of Los Encuentros, the junction on the Pan American Highway where buses also turn off for Panajachel. Other than private car, the easiest way to get to Chichicastenango may be to book passage on one of the many tour buses that go directly to the village on market days (check with hotels and travel agencies), or one of the tourist minivans coming directly from Panajachel, Antigua and Guatemala City; fares are $15 and up.

To visit the Mayan shrine Pascual Abaj, take 9 Calle out of town, and follow the mask-shop signs on the left, which indicate the footpath up the hill.

Museo Regional is a free museum facing the plaza displaying such regional artifacts as vessels, clay incense burners, arrowheads and copper ax heads.

Where to stay: Mayan Inn, 8a Calle and 3a Avenida, Chichicastenango; from U.S. phones, 011-502- 956-11-76, fax 011-502-956-12-12; one block west of the plaza is a deluxe hotel worth the money; furnished with colonial artifacts, antiques and Guatemalan art and weavings, a restaurant and bar. 31 rooms with baths, about $65 single, $78 double, $90 triple.

Maya Lodge, 6 Calle A 4-08, Chichicastenango; tel. 011-502- 956-11-67, on the northwest corner of the plaza, is a colonial inn; 13 rooms with baths, some with fireplaces, about $24 single, $30 double.

Hotel Santo Tomas, Chichicastenango; tel. 011-502- 956-10-61, is a modern, colonial-style hotel; 43 rooms with baths, about $58 single, $70 double.

Hotel Casa de Huespedes Giron, 5a Calle 4-52, Santo Tomas Chichicastenango; tel. 011-502-956-11-56, is basic lodging close to the plaza; clean, spartan rooms, $2.50-$4 single, $4-$6 double, $6 triple.

What to avoid: I felt safe in Guatemala, but the State Department reports that violent crime is a growing problem. It’s best to avoid intercity road travel after sunset and to hire taxis only at major hotels, airports and from main intersections.