Apparently we had misunderstood. Mingo usually tries to head out by 5:00am, not wake up at that time. So today we were awake, dressed, and on the road for over an hour before we even saw any hint of the sun's presence. I took another nice long nap in the back and woke up once we reached Tapachula about an hour from the Mexico/Guatemala border. The mountains here are the big deep green kind, and are high enough in elevation that even the clouds don't stand above them. As I stood watching in awe, Mingo got a call from Geronimo, his boss in Chimaltenango. They talked business.

It turns out his boss knows some folks that I've been trying to get in touch with since March. He used to be president of the bus drivers' union two years ago so he said he'd be happy to connect us to the folks in the union so that we could attend a meeting or two and cover any events they have in the next few weeks. He also knows a woman named Lilian Maribel Perez, who is the Presidenta de la Asociacion de Viudas de Pilotos (the Bus Drivers' Widows Organization). They are based in the capital city, where most of the murders take place, and have been at the forefront for the struggle to fight for rural bus drivers to get protection and pension coverage by the government. Even though their husbands had had jobs in the public transportation service, many of the widows are often left with no way of covering themselves financially in the event of a death in the family. I think she'll be an important person to meet while we're there.

Just before crossing into Guatemala, we met up with a chapin named Jenni in the border town of Ciudad Hidalgo. She pulled up on a motorbike with no helmet on and gave us a wave to follow her. Mingo said he knew her from past trips – they often work together.

Jenni runs all the paperwork to get transmigrantes through the Guatemalan border. Without her, it wouldn't be possible for us to cross. Mingo tried to explain it, but I'm still not sure why we needed to have her do this – it seemed to me that there should be some way he could do this himself if he wanted to, but there's probably something I'm not catching. She had documents that were very similar (if not identical) to the ones prepared for us back in Sen Benito, TX by the folks at “Nuevo Milenio.” Lists and lists of the things we carry. We pulled over and she and another guy went through the bus' engine and the one we're carrying in the rear of the bus to get the VIN numbers.

After crossing the border we stopped for lunch while some paperwork was being processed – it should take an hour or two. When I got off the bus, I left the camera on board and didn't think much of it. I had no idea it would be a big mistake.

As we began walking, Mingo immediately began saying interesting things. It was a classic “I wish I had my camera” moment, but I figured it would pass soon enough. Not more than 15 minutes later, we ran into Jenni who seemed to appear out of nowhere with a bunch of Guatemalan Quetzales for Mingo that she had exchanged. There are lots of folks here at the border that will change your money for you, but they charge a fee for the service and often have awful rates - Jenni had the hook up on the good rates.

We grabbed lunch and then Mingo said he was going to get a haircut. Still no camera!

I decided to cut my losses and go back to cover a bit of the transmigrant community that was waiting for their paperwork to clear. Hundreds of old trucks, crashed luxury cars, and bits and pieces of vehicles are piled on flatbeds and lined up on both sides of the street. I recognize some familiar faces from different places we've stopped along the way.

It was refreshing to get off the bus for a while. I decided to walk around the parking lot and meet people. During the rounds, I ran into a guy from Honduras and his dog, Ronnie, that we had met at the hotel by the beach. I also bumped into a few other guys from our night in San Benito, TX at “Nuevo Milenio.” And met a guy named Leonel who came up and introduced himself because he said he had seen us filming at the US/Mexico border.

Apparently he crossed over the bridge while we were there shooting cars crossing and he was excited to have caught up with us. I was touched that everyone was really interested in the film and wanted to help out however they could. A few folks gave me phone numbers and contact info “in case you need anything – you never know...”

We hung out from 11AM until 3PM or so, and put a few of the old bus seats under the bus and took a nap in the shade below, cracking jokes and killing time. Some people come to work at the border every day in the informal ecomony that has spawned here, selling food, drinks, and toilet paper to travelers as they wait.

One guy came by with a bag of Pollo Campero – arguably the best fried chicken in all of Guatemala – and tried to slang it to anyone that was interested. The first time he came by, I considered it. But when he came by two hours later with the same bag, I lost all interest. We went and got breakfast tacos instead...

For hours there's been no word from Jenni and we are totally dependent on her right now. Why are things taking so long? Mingo goes to find her, hoping there's not a problem with our documents.

We finally found Jenni, but didn't cross until 5:15pm. Usually if Mingo crosses by 2:00pm – 3:00pm he can make it home to Chimaltenango by dark. There's no way that will happen tonight.

Driving in Guatemala is a totally different experience visually. Now that we're here, the streets are packed with camionetas in their full regalia. I wonder if, as we pass by, the buses acknowledge each other. Surely the camioneta must remember the first time it set foot in Guatemala. A whole new life lay ahead of it. How strange it must feel to look back after so much time and so many changes...

Huge traffic jam - where can we stay? Our needs are pretty basic, but it's got to have an XL parking lot! It'd be nice if there were a shower, too, as I haven't showered in two days. We find a hotel with a large log, but there are no rooms left. Mingo slept in the truck behind us and we spread out inside the bus.

I'm not sure if I should be scared or comforted by the two, heavily armed security guards walking around the lot with large shotguns.

This is Mazatenango – a modern town with a lot of night life. I'm not sure how much “night life” I'd like to get into at this point. Car alarms are going off left and right, but I managed to fall asleep to the sounds of a parade of cars, trucks, and buses driving past us on the highway. These must be the guys that sleep by day and drive by night.

Tomorrow we're hoping to arrive to Chimaltenango by 7:00am.

LA CAMIONETA is a feature-length documentary about the "afterlife" of American school buses and the people who make it all possible.