Marco Tulio
it’s a miracle
As happens in Guatemala many share the same set of names. Typically there are two nombres, or names, and two apellidos, or last names, one is the mother’s surname and the other the father’s surname. Or, if there is an absent father for one reason or another, a grandparent’s surname on the mother’s side. Thus this Marco Tulio whose surnames are unknown to me, has been designated “the body shop guy”, to distinguish him from Marco Tulio, the mechanic or Marco Tulio, the electrician.
I was first introduced to “the body shop guy” by my occasional driver after experiencing a fender bender a number of years ago. I was told to go to a particular address and ask for Marco Tulio. There was no sign or much indication that there was a business in what was mostly a residential area. Within days my car looked brand new for very little money. Life in Guatemala requires that you have a body shop guy in your WhatsApp. Not only is the traffic horrendous but few on the road seem to know how to drive. And then there are the motorcycles, the street dogs, the illegally parked cars, the potholes, etc. Driving is not for the faint of heart.
Marco Tulio is clearly an artist. If I had to guess I would think he might have had six years of education. I have seen him sitting on a tree stump with an offending panel. He uses a wooden hammer covered with a towel to pound out the damage. Apparently, he obtains the paint from a dealer as when he is finished there is no evidence whatsoever that there had been any damage.
Diego encountered a post on his first solo drive after getting his license. He was driving the pickup belonging to the non-profit, Mundo Posible, and had gotten caught up in a police chase causing him to pull off to the side of the road and into the post. He was beyond devastated but I told him to just call Marco Tulio. All was well within a few days.
Recently, I found myself, while exiting a parking place, having to choose between a post and being rear-ended by a chicken bus. I chose the former and the next day took the car to Marco Tulio.
I told him that it had been quite a long time since I had seen him. He grinned and said, “it is a miracle.” Eight days and $300 later my car was like new. I can only guess what it might have cost at the dealer.




I love this column. So full of a life we don't know but can appreciate. Keep it up.