Chicken Bus in Guatemala

So, for my 30th b-day I had this big extravaganza planned in New York.  It failed.  For reasons that are too much to go into, everything began to fall apart.  I finally got fed up and canceled it all.  Part of the reasons I did so was because I saw an ad online for $150 round trip tickets to Guatemala.  I decided to go and asked my parents if they wanted to go as well.  My mother declined, but told me I should take my dad.  He is an archaeologist and had never seen Tikal.  PERFECT!

Well, there were many entertaining points along the way, but what stands out most was the final Chicken Bus we took from Santiago Atitlan to Guatemala City.  On our way to the lake region, the most eventful thing was a minister who got on, preached in the aisle, and then touched every single head in that bus as he prayed.  It was actually very touching.  Let's get back to the harrowing story, though, shall we?

This chicken bus DOES have actual chickens.  They are loud and smelly.  It is also PACKED.  As we drive down (mountains) it begins to rain.  Okey Dokey.  Except our bus has no windshield wipers.  None.  And its not some sort of piddlin' little rain, it's a DOWNPOUR.  On switchback roads.  In a full bus.  With no windshield wipers.  Instead, some guy is hanging out the OPEN door of this redone school bus and is, I guess, navigating.  The driver is driving blind.  At night.  On switchback roads.  With no wipers.  As an avid an frequent traveler, not much fazes me.  Lost in Italy?  Check.  Penniless in Spain?  Check.  Alone in Ireland with signs in Gaelic?  Check?  Nervous, nope.  Nervous NOW?  YES! 
I am white knuckling the back of the seat.  My dad and I are crammed together like sardines and I look over, and he has his eyes closed and is HUMMING.  THE MAN IS HUMMING.  He is not scared, nervous, or concerned.  He is humming.

Yeah.  Humming.

Said bus is below:

My insides are still in Guatemala.  I think they fell out.

-JS