Pastores: El Pueblo de sola botas

Yesterday a group of people from my school went to Pastores- a small town famous for only making boots. That´s right, everyone in the town makes boots. Main street is nothing but boot shop after boot shop. Mostly it is cowboy boots- which are not exactly my style- but a few of the places have adapted their styles to appeal to the non-cowwrangling portion of the world. And this is how I came to buy two pairs of boots.

We rode the chicken bus there. The chicken bus is the name for the general bus system around Guatemala. It is a massive fleet of former USA schoolbuses that have been overhauled to run on bigger motors that get them up the steep mountain passes, and also emit large noxious clouds of black deisle smoke (usually right at the moment I decide to cross behind one). Up until yesterday I had never had the oportunity, or the need, to ride on one. However it is Q3 to get to Pastores on one so we all jumped aboard for our first bumpy, hectic, to the tune of the blaring spanish radio, ride.

Five minutes later we hopped off in Pastores. As I said, it is one main street with nothing but boot shops. It was an odd sight. We decided to start on one end, wander up the street and then wander down on the opposite side. However, as fate would have it, the boots I bought happened to be from the first place we went into.

I was looking for something with a rounded toe, a flat sole, and a little style. Something that will keep my feet warm but still adorable on those cold rainy days in Sonoma. I saw one pair of boots that were closer to what I was invisioning. They had motorcycle boot-esqe detailing, and a nice rubber sole. I asked if he could make them in brown- and when they could be ready. After a little coaxing he said he could make them by Friday. However I said I still wanted to look around.

So we wandered from shop to shop- as I searched shelf after shelf of boots made of everything from cow hide (with the hair still on) to aligator, and in colors ranging from generic brown to brilliant sky blue. However there were none that came close to the style I was looking for. After reaching the end of town and looping back we ended up in the original shop.

I pulled down the pair of boots again, tried them on, and asked him (as best I could in my limited Spanish) about a half dozen or so tweaks I wanted. He said they were all possible. He measured my foot, I gave him the money ($50 for a custom made pair of boots...) and we made plans for me to pick them up on Friday. That would have been the end of it had my classmate Natalie not also been ordering a pair of boots.

As I waited for her I looked around the shop again and picked up a pair of beautiful fawn colored tall leather boots with a medium heel. I hadn´t tried them on previously because I was looking for a more practical boot- and the thin stilleto-esque heels on these would not do well to get me too and from class on a daily basis. However, they were gorgeous and I figured I might as well try them on.

My foot slid in without resistance, and the nearly 2´ long zipper pulled up with a smooth motion. I looked at them in the mirror and it was all over. I had to have them. I asked the guy how much. He said they were the same as the ones I ordered. At first I balked at the idea of spending $100 dollars on boots in one day. However then I thought about what they would cost in the states: knee-high, fawn leather, hand-made boots. Those would be at least $200 dollars. Right? Well that logic was undenyable and so I bought them. Two pairs of boots.

Hopefully when I go back on Friday I make it out with only the pair I already paid for.