But before that, I spot a rope on the ground. I mindlessly pick it up.

I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t start questioning the destination, the destination to which the path leads. I can’t see into the distance, so I can rely only on my own speculations with the rope in my hand.

After walking for a while, I meet a stranger. He claims he had a vision and knows what is at the end of the path. It’s a pity, but he insists that he can’t tell me more. He only adds that I should tie my legs with the rope and jump the rest of the way. Supposedly, it’s necessary. Otherwise, nothing good awaits me at the end. I kindly thank him for his advice and keep walking.

As I keep walking further, I encounter jumping people. I find it funny, but I don’t laugh. Mostly, they don’t block me. One by one, I carefully walk past them. Sometimes, I find someone who blocks me and has something against my walking. At first, I try to convince them to walk too. Shortly after, I realize there is no chance of convincing each other. That’s why I start to ignore them.

Even though the path seems endless, I am sure it ends somewhere. As I meet more people, I discover various ways to cope with this tricky situation. Probably, there are more people convincing others of their visions. After all, I was also trying to convince people to walk just like I do.

I’m intrigued by a person with a rope over his eyes. He chooses not to see the little that we can. Another person tied his arms instead of his legs. For some, the situation was so frustrating that they decided to step away from the path and hang themselves on the nearest tree.

Every use of the rope fascinates me, although nothing convinces me. I’m starting to feel puzzled.

If everyone receives a gift at the beginning of the path, it’s not the rope but rather its infinite number of uses. Also, it cannot be a coincidence that everyone I met accepted the gift. That forces me to replace mindlessness with helplessness.

We receive the gift because of our helplessness and inability to refuse.

But does the gift become a part of ourselves in a way that is irreversible? I carefully put the rope on the ground. I leave something taken for granted behind me.

I have questioned my decision multiple times. Sometimes, I want to take it back. On the other hand, there is a feeling of relief. It creates an infinite number of thoughts. The first thought contradicts the second. The third is refuted by the fourth. As it goes on, nothing lasts. There is only emptiness.

It’s a paradox, because I used to think that the more I know, the richer the world is. But it seems that this is being refuted by the emptiness.

The path still seems endless. It reminds me of the rope, where I could clearly see the beginning and the end. In contrast, the path is infinite because I don’t remember the beginning and I can’t see the end.

In the unremembered and unknown, I again find emptiness. I don’t know why I smile while facing it.

Since then, my view of the path has been turned upside down. I’m gradually discovering that the options the rope offered could be easily outnumbered. I’m starting to feel comfortable with this ubiquitous emptiness. So why not keep walking?

One time when I was about to leave for the museum, my friend cancelled our meeting there at the last moment. With me already dressed for the cold Danish weather and ready to leave my room, I decided to go, for the first time just by myself.

It might sound trivial, but for me it’s not. I am a rather introverted being, and I rarely feel cozy in public spaces. Moreover, I find myself easily overwhelmed by the world around me, which tends to intensify when I am alone.

That’s why I believed I needed to sit at my desk to focus properly. Going to the museum proved to be the exception.

Entering the first exhibition, I am walking around, observing one art piece followed by another. I am wearing headphones, listening to piano music in the background. I like to approach galleries like a book that is spread across multiple rooms. I always read everything and if I don’t finish, I return later on.

Being exposed to art, I am recalling my art history lessons back in Czechia. Sometimes I spot a familiar name, technique, or type of pillar depicted in a painting. This somehow triggers a retrospective view in me. Since the final exam at high school, everything has happened so fast. University, a new country, new people, and a language I do not understand.

Then I start focusing on each brushstroke in paintings. It’s fascinating seeing the strokes of a painter from the 19th century. I wonder how the artist thought about his life and his actions. At a certain point, this reflection turns towards me. Being exposed to art makes me think not only about the art but rather about myself.

Art shows so explicitly how life is just a tiny moment. It can be the movement of a brush, the shaping of a sculpture, writing, whatever. It calms me, no matter how overwhelmed I get by changes in life, this will always stay the same.

No matter where I am, at the end of the day, it seems everything is about expressing my being in any way I choose. And after doing so, I will make my spot available for someone else who will come after me, just like someone did before I appeared.

Our very first stop along the way is none other than Pollo Campero.

It’s early, so we received the morning menu. To my surprise, it somehow resembles what I would expect from a traditional Guatemalan breakfast. One of the options includes tortillas, black bean paste, cheese and plantains, which you can imagine as a banana’s brother that must be fried before consumption. On top of traditional breakfast, you get fried chicken.

I ordered a combo meal for Q56 (about 7.30$). It is worth noting that prices at Pollo Campero are not considered low-end by locals.

The restaurant is packed. I was told it’s almost always like that, which explains the need for the waiting lobby we went through.

At the same time my light-colored eyes and hair act like a lighthouse. I spot many people staring at me trying to figure out where I’m from. Guatemalan slang has a term for a person who looks like me, I’m known to everyone as “canchito”, which literally means “blonde”.

Their fried chicken was simply delicious. I have never tried better fried chicken at any other fast food chain. Unlike KFC that I know from the Czech Republic, Pollo Campero is not overseasoned thus more true to the natural taste of the chicken.

As I enjoyed my meal, I talked with my girlfriend and her family about what is behind the success of this place. It was hard for me to understand how something such as a fast food chain could be a part of national pride.

After digging into the history, I no longer wonder why.

Where it all began

The first Pollo Campero was opened in 1971. It was their successful advertisement praising their Guatemalan roots that made customers associate them with national pride. This also gave them an advantage over the gradually growing competition in the form of US-based chains such as McDonald’s or Pizza Hut.

Just a year later, they expanded into neighboring country El Salvador.

Surprisingly, it was not only the slogan “Tan guatemalteco como tú” (As Guatemalan as you are) which was successful, but also “Tan salvadoreño como tú” (As Salvadorian as you are). A small hint behind success of slogan targeting El Salvador is that, unlike Pollo Campero, the market entry of US chains was delayed until the mid-1980s due to the ongoing war.

Pollo Campero advertisement from the 1970s, featuring the famous slogan “Tan guatemalteco como tú” in the end.

Nostalgia economy

A national pride oriented advertisement isn’t the only factor that supports the cult of Pollo Campero today. To undertand what this other factor is, we need to focus on the people who left their motherland in order to work abroad.

And it’s a lot of people.

Mainly coming to the US, the money these people are sending back to their families make up to 19% of the country’s entire GDP.

The nostalgia economy refers to the phenomenon where customers crave products associated with their home. And it’s Pollo Campero that became the flagship of this nostalgia. My girlfriend’s family mentioned how many people take Pollo Campero into the plane with them. They even suggested that I should do the same and bring some fried chicken home so my parents can try it in Europe.

Taking Pollo Campero into the plane is a big deal. Just take a look at this poster by Delta Air Lines, which lists “1 bag of Pollo Campero” as an example of carry-on baggage.

Simple as that, people who occasionally come to visit their family in Guatemala want to take part of their home back to the US, and it so happens that this often means a bag of fried chicken from Pollo Campero.

We are not flying today, just driving. So, when we finished our meals, we got back into the car to continue our road trip. Since then, I have known the answer whenever someone asks me what my favourite fast food chain is. It’s not only my favourite one, but also the most fascinating one.

Resources and further reading

My main resources beside my own experience and talking with locals.

First is the book that contains case study of Pollo Campero, second is an article discussing phenomenon of taking fried chicken into a plane. Last one is source of GDP statistics.

• Ramadani, Veland, Erick P. C. Chang, Ramo Palalić, and Esra Memili. Entrepreneurial Family Businesses: A Textbook on Innovation, Governance, and Succession, with Case Studies. 2nd ed. 2024. Springer Texts in Business and Economics. Springer International Publishing, 2024. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-59261-4.

• Mejia, Brittny. “Why Flights from Central America Often Have the Enticing Aroma of Fried Chicken.” Los Angeles Times, April 14, 2021. https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2021-04-14/pollo-campero-central-america-los-angeles.

• Sweigart, Emilie. “Guatemala by the Numbers.” Americas Quarterly, April 22, 2025. https://americasquarterly.org/article/guatemala-by-the-numbers/.