We arrived in town Wednesday afternoon and were surprised to see the stalls already being set up for the Thursday market. Later that evening, after eating a pleasant meal at the restaurant Tziguan Tinamit, we checked out some of the merchandise. The venders, even those just starting to set out their displays, were happy to show their wares in hopes of an early sale. I was hunting for quilts and found a few I really liked. Not having the greatest vision, I chose to wait for daylight to make my decision.
After a chilly (I should have bought a quilt) but good night’s sleep, we awoke early to start our shopping before the tour buses arrived. We jumped out of bed, felt our noses and toes freezing, and crawled back into bed. We awoke again around 9am, and even though we were still freezing, we headed off to the market.
The streets and plazas were crammed full with many more stalls than the night before. We chose which direction to go by where the masses, still mostly national, herded us. I saw many quilts and tried to mentally map where the best ones were. Libby was in the search of extra-large huipiles (traditional blouses) for her mother. Because Guatemalans tend to be small people, finding very large garments can be a problem, but since Chichi deals with so many foreigners, some stalls did have what we were looking for.
According to the locals, there is system to the layout of the market. We never figured it out. Supposedly, merchants specializing in similar items are loosely grouped together. We covered every last inch of the place and found quilts and huipiles from one extreme to the other. I had spotted about 100 quilts that I wanted to take home but was determined to limit myself to two. I had no clue how to get back to my favorites.
We were getting hungry and wanted to regroup. The tour buses had recently arrived and the market was getting fuller. The food stands in the market, which sold some food I recognized (chicken soup and quesadillas) and other items of which I had no clue, smelled wonderful. The crowds around most venders were large and few or no seats were offered. With decades of practice of standing up while eating tacos in Mexico, I am comfortable with and actually prefer this method. But doing this amidst masses of people in constant motion seemed like a bad idea.
On the north side of the plaza is a building housing the produce stands. We slipped in here and followed signs up the stairs to La Fonda del Tzijolak. Here we had a warm breakfast served with handmade tortillas away from the crowds. We sat on the balcony and could see over most of the market. Even from up here I was disoriented. I doubted I would ever find my favorite quilts again.
With our stomachs full and our feet rested, we pushed our way into the market. We passed stands selling blankets, musical instruments, children’s clothing, plastic goods, toys, duffle bags (these came in handy by the end of the day), and a myriad of other items. We passed by a small movie theater with blankets for walls. It was packed full of children on folding seats watching a TV with a VCR connected to it. Admission was a quetzal or two.
Along the way on the search for my quilts, I bought knickknacks and gifts for friends and family. We had to make a pit stop at an ATM. We went to the one on the corner of Calle 6 and Avenida 5. It worked just fine with both of my bankcards (both are Visa, but one is
Cirrus and one is Plus).
Luckily, with money waiting to be spent, I found one of my quilts immediately outside the bank. I am not one for bargaining. I am terrible at it. I have witnessed expert hagglers but have never learned. I ask just once or twice for the best price and take it or leave it. I try to figure out what it is worth to me before I start the process. A couple of handy phrases to know are ¿Qual es su mejor precio? (What is your best price?) and ¿A como me lo deja? (roughly, What will you give it to me for?). People have told me it is best to start offering less than half of what you are willing to pay. The vender will then be offended. I am told this is an act, part of the game. I always feel guilty at this point, so I just stick to "What’s the best you can do?"
A short while later, I found another of my quilts, and another… I ran out of Quetzales. No problem, US dollars are eagerly accepted, and at a surprisingly good exchange rate considering the surroundings. Exchange rates can also be haggled. Soon my dollar stash disappeared, as had Libby’s. We headed back to the hotel. We passed the most beautiful quilt I had seen all day. I was despondent. The saleslady seemed to know. She asked if I was out of quetzales. I told her I was out of dollars, too. She asked about Mexican pesos. I had a wad of those, gas money for the trip home, and I whipped them out. Once again, the exchange rate was fair. One beautiful quilt heavier, we went back to our room, only to have to come out again to buy some duffel bags. Thank goodness for pesos.
I don’t like crowds and I hate being cold, but I would come back here in a heartbeat. I do have a few suggestions to people visiting for the first time. The market is held on Thursdays and Sundays. We were here on a Thursday a couple of weeks before Christmas. The Sunday market is said to be larger and much busier. Make your decision about which day to visit according to your tolerance for crowds. If you need a break from the crowds, slip into one of the nearby restaurants, or better yet, visit the two beautiful churches or the museum on the plaza. If you have self-control issues, like I seem to have, only take what you want to spend. Leave the bankcards somewhere else. If you don’t have to get on a tour bus by a certain time, do your shopping late in the day after most of the tourists have left. The prices will be cheaper. My last purchase, the most beautiful and best quality quilt I bought, was by far the cheapest.
Even though I love my six quilts (I couldn’t stop at two), what I most remember from this trip are the people, thousands of nationals, always smiling and friendly, wearing their bright traditional clothing. The sounds, smells, and colors of the market have stayed with me long past my vacation’s end.