Interacting with People and Easter Celebrations

Saturday, April 9, 2011—San Pedro La Laguna to Chichicastenanago

I knew my traveling time would only be about 1 1/2 hours today, so I wasn’t in a big rush to get away.  I took advantage of early hours to write some e-mails.  Then I went to breakfast around 8:00.  I returned to the place where I had lunch yesterday, because the Swedish couple had said that they returned because breakfast had been so good.  I ordered the desayuno typico which included scrambled eggs, refried black beans, a small portion of local goat cheese, two slices of fried banana, and 4 small tortillas that were thick and delicious.  I also ordered coffee, since here in Guatemala it is made from locally grown beans.  It was a great breakfast for $2.60.

Around 8:45, I decided to go ahead and leave the hotel.  I thought I might as well make the trip and get settled rather than waste more time there.  As I came downstairs to check out, a tourist lady had asked the owner something and was having trouble understanding the answer in Spanish.  She asked if I understood Spanish enough to know what the owner was saying, then she explained that her son had diarrhea and she was asking if it was safe for him to go back on the boat to Panajachel alone to await them at the apartment they were renting there while they hiked the nearby volcano before returning themselves.  I told her I was about the take the boat and that it would be no problem for him to go with me.  After feeling assured, she rushed to get her family who were still at the restaurant where they had eaten breakfast.

Conner, the boy, is 14 years old and very well-mannered.  He even thought to suggest that we not shake hands because he didn’t want to make me sick.  That was after I had already shook hands and introduced myself with his father, his mother, and his sister.  I could tell that the parents were both worried and relieved.  The mother, who Conner told me later is a psychologist, was feeling a bit guilty about going on the hike rather than taking care of him.  I told her that when I was sick I really didn’t want someone around all the time, but that it was nice to have someone hug me occasionally and tell me they were sorry I wasn’t feeling well.  I then suggested that he should be fine based on what they had told me about his illness and his ability to take care of himself, but that she might want to shower him with some affection when they returned.

On the boat, Conner was a nice companion.  The trip takes about 35 minutes, so we were together maybe 50 minutes between when we left the hotel and we arrived at his family’s apartment.  He told me they sponsor 3 young girls here in Guatemala through the Maya Traditions Foundation that helps assure that families keep girls in school with the $30-per-year donations rather than having them drop out and help the mother.  They were here on spring break to learn more about the foundation and to meet the families of the girls they sponsor.  He said that his father is on the faculty of a seminary in Michigan and asked me about my job.  He said that mathematics was one of his favorite subjects.  When I told him I had taught in Corpus Christi, he told me that there were several students at his charter school who are from Corpus Christi and attend school there.  It made me wonder:  Why would families send their high school students all the way from Corpus Christi to Michigan to attend a state-funded charter school when there are decent schools, both public and private, in Corpus Christi?

My path to the bus stop was the same route he needed to follow to their apartment.  When we got to the apartment, he thanked me and we said good-bye.  I hope the rest of his day went okay and that his family was able to enjoy their climb without worrying too much about him.  He was a very capable, mature young man.  It felt good to have been helpful.

Unfortunately, there was not a bus leaving for Chichicastenango for an hour and forty-five minutes after I arrived at the bus stop.  I could have taken 3 short bus rides that would connect onto each other, but it is so much simpler just to take one.  There was a shady place to sit and wait, so I pulled out my book and read.  Although the time didn’t pass fast, it was much better than it would have been without the book.

There was an interesting French couple in their 50s or early 60s on the bus.  Her actions and personality turned me off immediately.  She was rushing from window to window taking photos of native people outside without concern regarding whether those people would care or not.  Then, when I offered to take a photo of her and her husband inside the bus and suggested that it might be better with the flash turned on, she was snappy about not liking the flash and not wanting it.  I took a rather dark photo of the two of them and returned the camera to her. Throughout the rest of the trip, she acted similarly, plus she made loud reactive noises every time we bumped over rumble strips which are very common here.  Anyway, I just started ignoring her.  But her husband spoke with me some, and he was very nice.  Actually, they live in St. Martin (where French is spoken) in the Caribbean, but he also said he had lived in Nice.  

Also on the bus was a very friendly local family.  They encouraged the French lady to take photos, and they smiled when I would shrug or smile.  I noticed the small boy had stuck the tip of his white shirt colar into his mouth and was sucking on it.  I took the tip of my shirt colar and put it in my mouth, too, and waited for them to see.  The mother noticed first, then got the attention of the small boy.  He was a bit embarrassed, but he thought it was funny (as did the rest of the family).  They all laughed.

My room at the hotel in Quiche (Chichicastenango), the Posada El Arco, is another that is large and furnished with native fabrics, sculptures, and paintings.  It also has a fireplace (but no wood provided like the place I had before).  Unfortunately, it does not have wifi.  None of the hotels in this city have it, I’m afraid.  For the first time on the trip, I have had to go to a cyber café.  I wrote this on my computer with hopes that the cyber café would let me copy and paste from a thumbnail flash drive.  Some won’t, because they fear viruses.  Fortunately, they have agreed here. I am posting this on Sunday afternoon and will make my Sunday post after arriving at my hotel tomorrow in Antigua where I will have wifi again.  But back to Saturday...

I wandered through town in mid-afternoon.  Many of the shops were closed for siesta.  Where the big market takes place tomorrow, some stalls were already set up and operating.  And many others were using rope, long poles, and plastic to construct their stalls.  Mayan people come here from many nearby villages each Thursday and Sunday for what is considered to be the biggest and best market in Guatemala. It also is probably the biggest tourist market in the country, too, with groups coming in buses from many nearby tourist destinations just for 2 or 3 hours.

The only other interesting thing here is that the local Catholic church has incorporated many aspects of Mayan religious ceremonies into its services.  My Lonely Planet guidebook says, “Although officially Catholic, [it is] more often the scene of rituals that are only slightly Catholic and more distinctly Maya.”  In a special spot outside of town, they still have an old Mayan sacrificial stone where people go to offer incense, food, liquor, cigarettes, flowers, etc., to the earth god.  It’s probably just a tale, but the guidebook says that they still occasionally sacrifice a chicken there.

Out in the evening watching people set up for market, I stopped for a taco at a portable stand.  A young man joined me and ordered one, then he started speaking in English to me and introduced himself as Esduardo.  He is a 4^th-year (out of 6) medical student from here who returns from school in Quetzaltenango every weekend to be with his family.  We talked a long time about various topics.  Then when others needed our seats, we started walking away together.  I saw some beautiful artwork being produced directly on the street.  It was made from colored sawdust and framed by pine needles.  It reminded me of Indian sand paintings, and I asked what it was.  He said, it is for Semana Santa (Easter), then he said, “Come.”  He walked me about 4 blocks away.  Along the way, we saw other artwork on the streets made with pine needles and rose pedals.  Eventually, we rounded a corner and faced a huge processional.  In front were a couple of banner carriers and several young men in priest-like robes with long sticks for lifting electrical wires up to assure passage.  Behind them came the “float.”  It was a very long and wide wooden platform topped with four large statues—Christ carrying the cross, the Virgin Mary, etc.  The platform was so big and so heavy that it took about 30 men on each side to hold and carry it.  Each also had a staff he carried.  There were padded points where the platform rested on their shoulders as they walked.  And during occasional pauses, they would put their staffs in place to hold it while they rested.  Behind the platform came a band playing dirge-type music.  The streets were lined with people and many others were walking beside and behind the procession.  As they passed over the various street artwork, it was destroyed.  When they were gone, those who had created it swept up and discarded the remains.  They have these processionals every weekend for 4 weeks leading up to Easter.  In addition to the artwork on the streets, various families had created their own small shrines at their houses along the route.  And as the procession passed houses, people upstairs would throw handfuls of rose pedals onto the “float.”

Esduardo left me after we had seen the processional, and I went back to the center to see how the artwork they were creating was coming along.  They had added sparkly aspects to it.  I asked someone there when the processional would arrive there, and they said it would take about two more hours.  I felt sorry for those guys carrying that heavy platform realizing they would be doing it all evening.  Then I searched my way back to where the processional was at the time and watched it pass one more time before going back to my room for the evening.