La Virgen de Guadelupe & The 3 Quetzales Adventure

“Bombas” or firecrackers– really more like bombs than fire or crackers – exploded all day today; usually causing me to wince, duck, and search for cover. Alas, only ash, and no mushroom clouds shrouded Antigua today. All of this in honor of The Virgin of Guadelupe. Apparently a Mexican Saint that every house I went in today had a mini-shrine for but almost no one knew why she was so special. Though, like I postulated to Emily, “Maybe it's just that she didn't have sex.” What? It's pretty miraculous in this age. Anyhow, all of the little kids here dressed up like indigenous Mayans (Which I think signifies how Guadalupe first appeared to a Mayan.) At La Merced, an enormous, yellow Catholic church there were booths paying homage to the Virgin where proud parents could snap photos of their Mayan-dressed Ladino children.

Of course there were marimba players and drummers there as well. Later in the night there was a procession with a float containing a semblance of the virgin and tons of flowers, carried over pine needles and yellow chrysanthemums. The household shrines had white flowers, little flowers, a picture of the virgin, and a bowl of coals – which I think symbolizes the incense of prayers the family is asking her to pray for their family members. Right outside our house was an alleyway decked out with streamers and torritos, which are these men who wear a cardboard tent with fireworks on the outside and run back and forth, letting the sparklers flare out into the crowd and causing Emily and our Guatemalan family to huddle together, heads turned in for safety.
And now for my tres quetzales adventure! It costs 1 quetzal and 50 centavos (about 25 cents) to take a chicken bus from Antigua to San Juan; so that's what I did. It's not as if I just decided to go on a traveling spree; the week before I had met two sisters at Common Hope, where I translate letters. They were back this week for her (still-in-stomach-type) baby's check-up so we talked again, this time Delmy, the 15 year old sister, invited me to come over to their house and pick nisperos (a fruit that grows here...don't think it's in the states, but the dictionary translates it as “medlar” if you know what that is.) Anyhow, they're these small, sweet, juicy fruits with sizey brown seeds, and I like them!

So I took Delmy and Wendy up on the offer and traversed up the side of Volcano Agua

with the two sisters, through a small orchard filled with nisperos, avocados, guayava, limes, oranges, bananas, jocotes, large wild-poinsettias, and purple orchids twining around trees,

not to mention vines of jasmine and a eucalyptus tree. It seemed like paradise, but it was certainly a good time, preceeded by a stop in their house, sipping Rosa de Jamaica with the family sporadically coming up and introducing themselves to me. Delmy sent me home with a huge bag of nisperos - I don't know what prompted this goodwill but I am certainly grateful.
On Good-will: I've learned a lot, and much of it seemed to culminate today at Common Hope. There I was, just translating letters when I get invited by Delmy to visit her and they buy me my favorite Guatemalan pastry (rellenito: fried plantains covered with sweetened black refried beans!), I draw and play with a little girl whose mom is busy selling nativity sets and they give me one of the clay doves, my boss gives me a lovely blue t-shirt. People just seem so generous and kind down here, and I'm unsure whether it's because... well, I don't know why that is. Sure, I've made a few people cards, friendship bracelets, or drawings down here – but that's just something I enjoy doing. Perhaps I've forgotten other people can be just as kind; in different ways, but still nice with seemingly no reason.

My mind has also been turned to God lately; I just finished “Answers to Prayer from George Muller's Narratives” and have started “Table Talk: Selections from Martin Luther”. They're both pretty old books, but that's the least important thing; both have reminded me that the Bible is far more important than any any any book written solely by us non-divine humans; that's humbling, because sometimes it feels good to say, “Why yes, I just finished a book by Pascal the other week.” or “Oh, I remember reading Martin Luther, I quite enjoyed him.” Rather than “God has really used Ephesians to humble me this week and call me back to righteousness.” Why is that? Pride probably, and the Bible conquers pride but sometimes other books just cause it to swell. I never want to fall into the trap of doing something out of pride, but rather desire to do all things out of Love, with God's constant help!

A Time in Tikal

Mayan ruins are pretty high on most people's lists of "interesting things to see." Imagine yourself and 20 something other people crowded into a small plane, whipping through the air with cities, then roads, then only forest beneath you, then unnatural seeming mounds begin to appear profusely. That was the plane ride. Sure, we wondered about the hills, but the terrain isn't exactly flat here in Guatemala.

Seeing mossy hewn stones stacked to the sky and droves of tourists clambering (or huffing and puffing) up the slippery stairs was interesting in itself.

It was otherworldly, being in a stone room or standing in front of an altar that only God knows how many sacrifices were made. It was humbling to realize that all of the ruins looked like the irregular grass and tree covered hills before they were excavated and cleared off. How much more will our greatest buildings be ruled by nature in a few short years after we leave them?

My favorite part probably wasn't the elegant and intriguing, fastidiously piled heaps of rocks, but the things that were alive;
friends

butterflies

and a cute animal I can't remember the name of (but I did risk it and touch his tail!)

Atitlan Adventures

This weekend our group finally went to Lake Atitlan - the trip I was most excited about and the one that seemed the longest away was this weekend. That means our semester is getting closer and closer to being done. Bittersweet.

I've neglected to write about the organic macadamia nut farm we went to (and the corresponding desire to grow a few macadamia trees!)

Our trip to the US Embassy in Guatemala City (where I saw this funny bus - I hope you catch the irony - and considered trying to work in a US embassy somewhere, because every job with travel sounds like fun!)

Watched the sun dip behind the mountains and volcanoes of Antigua - when the earth isn't so flat it's harder to see sunsets. In fact I missed the moon-set last night while talking to a traveling musician from Cancun at Sunset Cafe -- because it disappears so rapidly with a mountain to hide behind!

I'm also getting frustrated with the power lines that intrude into every photogenic landscape - whether that's in the city or so far up in the highland mountains you'd think there wouldn't be any power lines.

Spending just a few days in Panajanchel (the tourist town on Lake Atitlan) and San Juan(a tiny little indigenous, rural town on the other side of the lake)made me want to change the "Antigua Semester" to the "Atitlan Semester". At Uxlabil, our eco-hotel in San Juan, I picked a lime and several juicy oranges, canoed to watch the sun set, and kayaked in the early morning light, found floating volcanic rocks along with a cluster of boulders where I lodged my kayak and jumped into the crystalline (supposedly polluted) water for a swim among the local fishermen and large bass in the water. Wouldn't you want to move here too?

Dark Chocolate

Mint!
Yes, finally an amazing chocolate bar in Central America. The chocolate pictured with me

is an Ixcacao Dark Chocolate Mint one! That's the brand of chocolates that Chocolate Bob makes (by hand! And seriously, it's an amazing operation!) Really I just wanted to brag on what a good use of 10 quetzales that chocolate was. Also, you can see some of the tropical bushes here at La Union - my Spanish school in Antigua. And, the hurricane-side-effect rains have finally stopped today; good thing too since it was causing mudslides in some of the little mountain towns and my Spanish teacher had to wait for an hour while men shoveled mud out of the drains so the bus could make it to work! Yup, life is crazy (the good kind) here.

Labor & Libertas in Guatemala

Labor & Libertas: Work & freedom. This stained glass window was in the Guatemala City Palace. I've been thinking about labor & libertas - a lot of the indigenous people here seemed to have freedom through their work - in the past - working the fields, weaving, making tortillas. But after 36 years of war and 200,000 dead or disappeared - mostly indigenous people - things have changed. The men have stopped wearing their traditional costume because of office discrimination. (Here is a picture of David wearing a traditional Mayan men's outfit - he's also getting "married")

We went from Guatemala City to a tiny little mountain town where indigenous culture still thrives - there were woman grinding coffee beans (the woman also collect the coffee beans because they have more delicate fingers and pay more attention to detail than men do!), making tortillas, girls as young as 5 weaving beautiful blouses or scarves, and all sorts of cool things.

In addition to Mayan traditions like tortillas, Guatemala seems to have a tradition of parades: a parade for everything!

And fireworks almost every day - not the colored kind you can see but the noisy kind that smell smoky and make you think Guatemala has entered another war and is taking the first shot outside your window!

Also, I like the weather here- mostly in the 70s which means you can grow any veggie any time of the year- seriously, how cool!?

This is a banana tree growing in my Spanish school - yes, there are other exotic trees like oranges and one I believe is an apricot (it's hard to tell because you normally buy them shriveled up in a plastic package from Wal-Mart in the states.) We felt the effects of Hurricane Whoever that is rushing towards Mexico - so SO much rain, but at least we are safe and not blowing away.

Organic Fincas and Spanish Lecciones

September 29, 2011
Caoba Farms: Live Well, Eat Well...Most of the time.

A wedge of dirt between nail and skin
a smudge of mud on freckled mejillas
wind of a promise:
paired with a Spanish speaker
moving around each day
payment with veggies
“Today is eggplant I think.”

I never saw eggplants,
except en route to dump my weeds
weeds from the same vegetable
as the day before.
Solitary confinement, or only peace?
a faucet gestured towards
after a plea to wash my hands
one man stepping in to save me
-from wobbling wheelbarrows

At least escorted through the gate today
by a man with a gun I didn't recognize

Surprise-addition of myself to the tourist's view
shaking the clean hand of a clean man
with my grubby digits
a bit ashamed I'd not seen more
-more plants
-more land
-more people
or heard more, but no wind of
-cafes with mountain lookouts
-ancestral coffee plant heritage
-cloud milking like Peruvians
- wages for indigenous workers

-or a breath of English-
which was good for me anyways.

Now that I know, it might be hard to go back
to the way it was before.

My Day wasn't much more than:
Stepping on a round Guatemalan avocado,
Mario- as he patted me on the back when passing,
a diligent indigenous man chopping chives,
the only woman (cutting remolacha sprouts),
spicy nasturtium leaves in my mouth,
Australian accent Dave off to Rio Dulce,
leggy, vivacious plants, surrounded by weeds,
with strength choked out of them.

Lately my life has been filled with 4 hours of Spanish lessons (which get to continue for 7 or so more weeks!! I'll be a native soon!)And that's my maestra Brenda in the picture, wearing the friendship bracelet I made her too!

An orchid exhibit, working at the organic farm, Rainbow Cafe, figuring out the best way to dry fruit, and cinnamon-honey pancakes. Oh, and a lot of angtsy-poetical writing since I don't have my guitar here.

And BEETS! I like them. What a surprise since I've heard mostly bad stuff about them. However, the other night we had the tip-toppest enchiladas with frijoles and rice and lechuga and beets and guacamole. I want to have a sheep, steal its' wool and use beets from my garden to make pink socks!

And a wonderful birthday party at the Spanish school; we sung happy birthday in 4 or 5 different languages. Following the suggestion of the Guatemalan Birthday song (Queremos pastel/ we want cake) we dug right in. There's fruit in the cakes here- it's not fruitcake though.

Guatemala City "Excitement"

Museum of Ethnology and Archaeology jump-started our Guatemala City craziness. It was a slow start - there were a few interesting things in the museum, but for the most part I dislike old stuff caged behind class. The only excitement there was the time I tried to climb up a ladder to stand on a dividing wall and the ladder started to do the splits - held together with a teeny bit of twine!

We went to some fancy restaurant (I'm probably getting the museum and restaurant names completely wrong) - Cacao, I believe. One man and a guitar wandered (together) around our table serenading us. It was a tad awkward to have someone performing a foot and inches from our faces. Like all of the expensive restaurants we've been to our "crew" (usually consisting of David, Emily, and I)was disheartened by the high cost and low flavor of the food. I think my "raviolis" were 95Quetzales - they were made with a squash sauce and some odd herb... not to complain, I only miss cooking!

We visited the Palace (very opulent, ornate, but spiced up with a wonderful tour guide!) and a cathedral.(pictured below)

I realized how any big group chanting (even something as innocent as The Lord's Prayer) seems cult-ish. Our last stop (after in/famous Pollo Campero) was the market. Much of the same stuff as everywhere. I learned how the vendors make extravagant "Guatemala" bracelets. Got stopped on the way back to the bus by the pot-vendors. No, not to buy the stuff - but their psychedelic bracelets caught my attention more than any of the others. David came back - probably to rescue me from accidentally buying drugs.
Oh, and here's the palace:

Sunday Emily and I hunted down my Maestra's church "Rey de los Naciones": King of the Nations. There was a guest speaker. He found it necessary to endorse the sinner's prayer. I dislike it, only because "raising your hand to accept Jesus into your heart" sounds so easy and leaves the hand-raiser with a sense of security from the raise of a hand. I don't think a hand motion or repeat-after-me prayer saves anyone. I think dying to oneself and allowing Jesus to be the Lord (one in control) of one's life - and the savior - is what salvation is more about.

There are so many stunning vistas, sweet old Mayan women, intense architecture, etc that I'd like to share -- but the internet is really too tired for all that now!