Back in Xela the following week, I had a semi- surprise visit from my sister and Beth, the woman she was traveling with to Honduras! It was wonderful to spend time with them and we added an extra fold-up bed to my room so they could sleep at my house.
The following weekend, Feb. 10-12, I traveled to Lake Atitlán with some friends. It was a hard decision to go, because I was torn between that and staying with my host family, with whom I felt I hadn't spent enough quality time. But I'm very glad I went. After having such a packed schedule, it was nice to be able to sit on the beach and relax with almost no time constraints and have no intellectual work required. It was fun to cram onto a "microbus" (minivan) with all our luggage and ride across town to the bus terminal, find the bus that went to Panajachel (the town on the lake), and squish 3 to a seat on the way out of town. The ride took about 2 hours, and then 5 of us headed across the lake on a little boat to the town of San Pedro la Laguna, where we arrived around 5:30 pm. Being in San Pedro was a rather surreal experience. We could have been practically anywhere in the Carribbean or southern California or Florida. It was extremely touristy and kind of bohemian--very jungly and tropical, lots of 20- something "hippies, language schools, hotels, restaurants everywhere, and practically everything in English.
Saturday morning, we got up at 5:30 and watched the sunrise over the lake from our hotel balcony, which was a very calm, quiet, serene, and beautiful experience. In the afternoon, Sarah and I headed back to Panajachel on the boat, because we wanted to take the early bus back to Xela in the morning. We walked down the main streat lined with vendors, cafes, shops, and tourist agencies and looked for a hotel or hostel in which to spend the night, and ended up in one near where the other group of students had stayed. It was inexpensive and lived up to the price: the room was very plain and simply furnished with a padlock for the door, and there was a communal toilet, shower, and sink. And I had to ask for a top sheet for my bed.
After unloading our stuff, we went to an art gallery, sat by the pool of a super-fancy hotel for a few minutes, and then I went to the beach to write. The sun was setting when I got up to leave, and I was stalling to take a picture when I was approached by a woman selling bracelets and fabric. She had a baby on her back and told me she hadn't sold anything yet that day and needed money to get home. I felt bad about not buying anything, but really, what kind of a difference would that have made anyway in the long run? The problem is a societal one, and her story is not unique... We returned to Xela on Sunday morning, on the 9am bus that turned out to be a 10am bus and got back around lunchtime.
During our last week in Xela, we traveled to a nearby hot springs, were led through a Mayan ceremony, and listened to a presentation from a representative of the Guatemalan army. The hot springs were located in the area of Zunil, which is all mountains and green valleys filled with small plots of land used for agriculture. Zunil is the largest agriculture-producing area in the country, but as opposed to the giant farms of the U.S., it was much more human-sized, with pretty stone walls separating the fields. Friday night, the 17th, was "graduation" from PLQ, for which we got to make food. Three of us made chocolate rice-krispie balls, which was a messy adventure!
Monday, February 20, 2006
Wednesday, February 8, 2006
Chichicastenango
We left Xela (the knickname of Quetzaltenango) on Friday afternoon and drove to Chichicastenango. The name means "the place of the chichicasta," which is a very common purple nettle flower in this area. It was another of those winding mountainous drives. "FRG" is spraypainted everywhere along the sides of the roads, on rocks, trees, electricity poles--it is the party of Rios Montt, the military president/dictator during the last years of the Guatemalan civil war. In places, the acronyms and symbols for other political parties are present, but FRG dominates. I would tell you what it stands for, but I don't remember and it's not in my notes...
On Saturday, we visited the rural community of Chontola and met with Pastor Diego of the Methodist church there and the widow's weaving cooperative started by the church. The walk down to the cooperative was on a hard-packed dirt footpath between houses, corn fields, orchards, and avocado trees. Pastor Diego told us about the history of the village and the cooperative-- many people were left homeless after the 1976 earthquake, and during the war the army came through the area and decimated the male indigenous population. The church began providing social assistance for the community and decided the people needed to find a way to support themselves rather than live off of charity, so a group a women got together and started Ruth ãnd Naomi's weaving cooperative in 1986. They now export many of their products to 1,000 Villages, a fair trade store in the U.S.
Saturday afternoon, we had free time in Chichi to explore the town and the pre-market market. Buying anything is usually a dificult process for me, but buying my new shoulder bag was even worse- -it was a difficult decision, and the first time I'd ever had to barter and bargain. That evening, I sat in the garden of a hotel full of blooming flowers with a fountain and listened to live marimba music--the national music of Guatemala. It was very soothing and relaxing after such a mentally taxing day.
Sunday is market day. In the morning, a few of us forged our way through the crowded market streets to the main Catholic church. The steps up to the church were full of people selling flowers, vegetables, and other things, talking, resting, and a little boy who kept tagging along behind us trying to sell us dolls. There were a number of Mayan priests outside the main doors waving inscense and muttering words I could barely hear and couldn't understand. Inside, at the back of the church, there were people kneelng on the floor by slabs of wood or rock with candles on them, and rose petals. The pews were full, and it was pretty dark, although the chancel was glittering white-silver-gold.
We walked through the market for a while, just browsing, but trying not to make very much eye contact with the vendors so as not to draw their attention and have them talk to us. I bought a wooden flute with a quetzal bird carved into it, and then headed to the cemetery and met some friends. The tombs were very colorful and beautiful. All of the cemeteries in Central America are similar, but the one in Chichi is much more pronounced. Walking through a cemetery here is nothing like walking through one in the U.S., which is rather dark, mysterious, somber, and mournful. Here, there is much more of a sense of joy and the celebration of life. I walked through the market on my way back and bought a beautiful skirt. By lunchtime, I had been completely overstimulated by the noise and colors and patterns of the market, and everything seemed to look like everything else, so it was a good thing that we left town right after lunch.
On Saturday, we visited the rural community of Chontola and met with Pastor Diego of the Methodist church there and the widow's weaving cooperative started by the church. The walk down to the cooperative was on a hard-packed dirt footpath between houses, corn fields, orchards, and avocado trees. Pastor Diego told us about the history of the village and the cooperative-- many people were left homeless after the 1976 earthquake, and during the war the army came through the area and decimated the male indigenous population. The church began providing social assistance for the community and decided the people needed to find a way to support themselves rather than live off of charity, so a group a women got together and started Ruth ãnd Naomi's weaving cooperative in 1986. They now export many of their products to 1,000 Villages, a fair trade store in the U.S.
Saturday afternoon, we had free time in Chichi to explore the town and the pre-market market. Buying anything is usually a dificult process for me, but buying my new shoulder bag was even worse- -it was a difficult decision, and the first time I'd ever had to barter and bargain. That evening, I sat in the garden of a hotel full of blooming flowers with a fountain and listened to live marimba music--the national music of Guatemala. It was very soothing and relaxing after such a mentally taxing day.
Sunday is market day. In the morning, a few of us forged our way through the crowded market streets to the main Catholic church. The steps up to the church were full of people selling flowers, vegetables, and other things, talking, resting, and a little boy who kept tagging along behind us trying to sell us dolls. There were a number of Mayan priests outside the main doors waving inscense and muttering words I could barely hear and couldn't understand. Inside, at the back of the church, there were people kneelng on the floor by slabs of wood or rock with candles on them, and rose petals. The pews were full, and it was pretty dark, although the chancel was glittering white-silver-gold.
We walked through the market for a while, just browsing, but trying not to make very much eye contact with the vendors so as not to draw their attention and have them talk to us. I bought a wooden flute with a quetzal bird carved into it, and then headed to the cemetery and met some friends. The tombs were very colorful and beautiful. All of the cemeteries in Central America are similar, but the one in Chichi is much more pronounced. Walking through a cemetery here is nothing like walking through one in the U.S., which is rather dark, mysterious, somber, and mournful. Here, there is much more of a sense of joy and the celebration of life. I walked through the market on my way back and bought a beautiful skirt. By lunchtime, I had been completely overstimulated by the noise and colors and patterns of the market, and everything seemed to look like everything else, so it was a good thing that we left town right after lunch.
Monday, February 6, 2006
My life in Quetzaltenango so far
Buenas Tardes! I'm doing quite well, although I'm pretty worn out from our busy schedule! I can hardly believe it's only been two weeks since I arrived in Guatemala and only a little over a week since I last wrote, so much has happened...
I will begin with Sunday, the day we moved in with our host families. My host mother's name is Margot (who has the exact same birthday as Mom!), and she lives with her youngest son, Luis, who is twelve. She has two older sons who are married with kids. I really like my family--they are very friendly and informal. And they have a very cute dog named Elvis, who is a medium-small black furry dog with a white triangle on his chest and stomach. I believe Luis and I played cards for almost 2 hours on Sunday afternoon...! I went out in the afternoon, and when I came home, there was a young woman there who I hadn't met before. She turned out to be the wife of Margot's middle son, who were living there temporarily with their 3- month old son.
To get into the house, you have to step over a foot-high cement ledge. Once you enter from the street, you walk through a little room that may have been a store once. It opens onto a long, rectangular, red stone-tiled courtyard with clotheslines strung across it. There is a tall cement building forming a wall at one end, and an 8-foot high or so stone wall on the other end. I have my own room, about 10 x 10, with a door that opens onto the courtyard. There is a covered walkway about 2 ft. wide between my room and the adjacent brick building, which runs the rest of the length of the courtyard. It contains the main living space (2 large beds and a TV) and a bathroom, which opens into the walkway. At the other end of the walkway is another courtyard with clotheslines strung across it, but this one is hard-packed dirt with three trees growing in it, including an apple tree! To the right isd a large concrete 3-sink wash-basin under the 5ft. overhang. Immediately to the left is a door into the kitchen-dining room, which is directly behind my room. The building extends to the back wall of the property, with another small room beyond the kitchen (I'm not sure what it contains). All of the decorations around the house were Christmas- themed, because, as Margot told me, in Guatemala they celebrate Christmas from December first through February second! The whole place is a bit dirty and dusty, but it's in good condition for the most part!
On Monday I started Spanish classes at the Proyecto Linguistico Quetzalteco. Classes begin at 8am, which means I eat breakfast at 7:30 before walking the 5 minutes it takes to get to the school. Breakfast usually consists of a combination of two or three of the following: platanos (like bananas), black beans, eggs, fresh bread, cereal, or pancakes. The class I am taking is conversational Spanish, and the objective is to become more fluent in Spanish, which means I have lots of oral presentations and exams... My class is one-on-one with my teacher, Maria, but we get together at least once a day with the three other girls that are taking the same course.
After class ends at 1pm, I go home for lunch and to hang out or do homework until our next scheduled activity. On Monday, our group met with the mayor of Quetzalenango. He's a nice guy, bu doesn't really seem to be in touch with the people. In terms of food, plátanos and black beans are really the main staple at almost every meal, and there are almost always tamalitos (tamales without any filling) or thick, small tortillas on the table. Besides that we may have soup, breaded or egg-coated vegetables, rice, chicken, spaghetti, or eggs. I'm glad that I actually like most of the food, unlike some people who are having a very difficult time adjusting to the diet.
Tuesday afternoon, our group took a crowded local bus to the town of Salcajá, about 20 minutes away, to observe the traditional indigenous weaving process, which is still done completely manually and is very complex. We also visited the oldest Catholic church in Central America, which was built in 1524, and tried out the two different alcohols that salcajá is famous for: caldo de frutas and rompopo.
On Wednesday we had a presentation on the history of the Maya people, and on Thursday we heard from two ex-guerrillas. I've read and studied a lot about the guerrillas, even wrote a paper on them last semester, and so it was really exciting for me to meet and hear from them in person! When I told my teacher about it they next day, she proceeded to tell me about her involvement in the guerrillas for 18 years!
Saturday afternoon we had a presentation from a Mayan priest and priestess about the Mayan calendar, and today a professor came and talked to us about Mayan spirituality. Yes, I am aware that I have skipped over a few days--that's because we took a trip this weekend to Chichicastenango, and to write about it would be whole other long email by itself! Hopefully I'll get around to that later this week.
This afternoon after the presentation, I went to a thrift store and bought myself a sweater and a pair of pajama pants. I've woken up cold almost every morning, despite the fact that I wear both of my long sleeve t-shirts, long johns, boxers, and two pairs of socks to bed, and that my bed has three blankets on it. It's usually between 50 and 55 degrees F in my room when I wake up. Hopefully this will solve that problem!
Well, that's all I've got the time and energy for right now! I love hearing from people and would be happy to give you some more details and specifics about anything you may have questions about!
I will begin with Sunday, the day we moved in with our host families. My host mother's name is Margot (who has the exact same birthday as Mom!), and she lives with her youngest son, Luis, who is twelve. She has two older sons who are married with kids. I really like my family--they are very friendly and informal. And they have a very cute dog named Elvis, who is a medium-small black furry dog with a white triangle on his chest and stomach. I believe Luis and I played cards for almost 2 hours on Sunday afternoon...! I went out in the afternoon, and when I came home, there was a young woman there who I hadn't met before. She turned out to be the wife of Margot's middle son, who were living there temporarily with their 3- month old son.
To get into the house, you have to step over a foot-high cement ledge. Once you enter from the street, you walk through a little room that may have been a store once. It opens onto a long, rectangular, red stone-tiled courtyard with clotheslines strung across it. There is a tall cement building forming a wall at one end, and an 8-foot high or so stone wall on the other end. I have my own room, about 10 x 10, with a door that opens onto the courtyard. There is a covered walkway about 2 ft. wide between my room and the adjacent brick building, which runs the rest of the length of the courtyard. It contains the main living space (2 large beds and a TV) and a bathroom, which opens into the walkway. At the other end of the walkway is another courtyard with clotheslines strung across it, but this one is hard-packed dirt with three trees growing in it, including an apple tree! To the right isd a large concrete 3-sink wash-basin under the 5ft. overhang. Immediately to the left is a door into the kitchen-dining room, which is directly behind my room. The building extends to the back wall of the property, with another small room beyond the kitchen (I'm not sure what it contains). All of the decorations around the house were Christmas- themed, because, as Margot told me, in Guatemala they celebrate Christmas from December first through February second! The whole place is a bit dirty and dusty, but it's in good condition for the most part!
On Monday I started Spanish classes at the Proyecto Linguistico Quetzalteco. Classes begin at 8am, which means I eat breakfast at 7:30 before walking the 5 minutes it takes to get to the school. Breakfast usually consists of a combination of two or three of the following: platanos (like bananas), black beans, eggs, fresh bread, cereal, or pancakes. The class I am taking is conversational Spanish, and the objective is to become more fluent in Spanish, which means I have lots of oral presentations and exams... My class is one-on-one with my teacher, Maria, but we get together at least once a day with the three other girls that are taking the same course.
After class ends at 1pm, I go home for lunch and to hang out or do homework until our next scheduled activity. On Monday, our group met with the mayor of Quetzalenango. He's a nice guy, bu doesn't really seem to be in touch with the people. In terms of food, plátanos and black beans are really the main staple at almost every meal, and there are almost always tamalitos (tamales without any filling) or thick, small tortillas on the table. Besides that we may have soup, breaded or egg-coated vegetables, rice, chicken, spaghetti, or eggs. I'm glad that I actually like most of the food, unlike some people who are having a very difficult time adjusting to the diet.
Tuesday afternoon, our group took a crowded local bus to the town of Salcajá, about 20 minutes away, to observe the traditional indigenous weaving process, which is still done completely manually and is very complex. We also visited the oldest Catholic church in Central America, which was built in 1524, and tried out the two different alcohols that salcajá is famous for: caldo de frutas and rompopo.
On Wednesday we had a presentation on the history of the Maya people, and on Thursday we heard from two ex-guerrillas. I've read and studied a lot about the guerrillas, even wrote a paper on them last semester, and so it was really exciting for me to meet and hear from them in person! When I told my teacher about it they next day, she proceeded to tell me about her involvement in the guerrillas for 18 years!
Saturday afternoon we had a presentation from a Mayan priest and priestess about the Mayan calendar, and today a professor came and talked to us about Mayan spirituality. Yes, I am aware that I have skipped over a few days--that's because we took a trip this weekend to Chichicastenango, and to write about it would be whole other long email by itself! Hopefully I'll get around to that later this week.
This afternoon after the presentation, I went to a thrift store and bought myself a sweater and a pair of pajama pants. I've woken up cold almost every morning, despite the fact that I wear both of my long sleeve t-shirts, long johns, boxers, and two pairs of socks to bed, and that my bed has three blankets on it. It's usually between 50 and 55 degrees F in my room when I wake up. Hopefully this will solve that problem!
Well, that's all I've got the time and energy for right now! I love hearing from people and would be happy to give you some more details and specifics about anything you may have questions about!
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