School´s out for summer ...

Alas, after six weeks of diligent study, I'm not sure I can stuff one more Spanish word into my poor little cabeza.  Verbs in various tenses are already spilling out of my ears.  Unfortunately not so easily from my mouth.  I´ve learned a lot, but I need some time to stop the music and let it sink in.  Fortunately, we have just one more day of class and the rest of our lives to sort all of this out and practice, practice, practice.  I was asking my instructor the other day if a certain sentence construction wasn't redundant.  She looked up redundant in the Spanish-English dictionary and said "No! Es muy claro."  I said, "Well it's muy claro twice."  Ja, Ja.  I used to think about teaching English to students in a foreign country, but I'm not sure I could take the looks on their faces.

We are now preparing to leave our lovely familia and maestros to travel on.  Our friends Kimberly and Patrick will join us in an old, historical city called Antigua, from which we will depart for other reaches of Guatemala, Belize, Honduras, and possibly El Salvador.  When our friends depart in late May, Darrel and I will travel to Costa Rica to top off our trip. 

Aqui are some highlights and pictures from our last few weeks in Xela.

The Saint

Our housemother, Gladis, is a saint.  She not only runs the school and home, but she donates muchos time and money to help the people of Xela.  She has taken under her wings a couple of young boys from extremely poor families to help them learn and grow.  They spend time at the house where she helps them with their homework, gives them general guidance on life, teaches them how to get along well with others, and invites them to the family meals.  The progress they make under her tutelage is amazing.

Gladis knows nearly everyone in Xela and helps those in need whenever she can.  She provides support to a daycare facility for children of extremely poor families.  Every Thursday she and other family members go to the Guardaria, as it's called, to take them food, milk, and other staples.  Darrel and I have gone nearly every Thursday to help with the food and to play with the kids.  Turns out Darrel does a mean imitation of an elefante that has them rolling in the aisles.  His bear and turkey aren't bad either.  Next time you see him, ask him to show you.  He loves that. 

It's heartbreaking to have such poverty staring you in the face, but it's heartwarming to see those children smile because of a bowl of fruit and a silly man doing imitations of an elephant.  When we arrive, they greet us with hugs and smiles and Holas!  And when we leave, every single child hugs every one of us and says Gracias!  Precious.

Semana Santa

Easter is a BIG DAMN DEAL in Guatemala (many catolicos here).  An entire week is devoted to celebration.  This can mean many perks for even the most heathen of travelers.  First is the out-of-this-world pan (bread).  The pasterias go blitz on the baking scene, with sweet breads of all sorts and decor.  It is customary to share bread with your neighbors, family, and friends. 

Of course no feast of pan is complete without homemade berry jams and sweet garbanzo beans.  And every mid-day meal is a gargantuan feast.  Paella of sorts, black beans, guacamole, queso (cheese), tortillas, rice, cucumber salads, pan of course ... Mama Chaito (great grandma) makes the meals around here, and she is the best of the best.  And she cooks for 30 people without so much as the blink of an eye. 

She spent the entire week in the kitchen ... cooking and smiling.  Mid-week I walked into the kitchen where she was peeling potatoes and said, with enthusiasm and surprise, MAS?! (More?!).  She just smiled.  On Easter Sunday, there were 35 people at their home for the mid-day meal.

Then there are the processions each day.  First the children and then the adults carrying large floats with scenes of the crucifixion and resurrection.  In the squares and parks, the people lay out huge colorful carpets for the procession to walk across. 

They're made of colored sawdust and carefully laid out using long pallets with cut-out designs.  Beautiful.  One night it rained all evening, but the procession went on with a plastic-covered Jesus and a field of umbrellas.

Chocolate

Eduardo, brother of Gladis, and his wife Cindy make chocolate to sell at the markets.  One afternoon they held a class in the art of making chocolate from the cocoa bean.  With the most rudimentary of utensils and absolutely nothing electric except the stove, we begin with the sorting and roasting of the beans.  Once only the finest beans are ready, they are ground over and over until smooth, adding sugar slowly.  Finally, the chocolate mass is formed into shape and set out to harden.  Eduardo and Cindy also run a little business from their house.  Chocomangos, pinas, bananos, frisas ... frozen slices of fruit on a stick, dipped in their handmade chocolate.  Fabuloso!  One a day ... 

A Scramble

We have taken several several hikes since we´ve been here.  The last one was a bonified scramble.  The views of the city are great, but often clouded by a combination of smog and ash from nearby volcanoes.  



A few more words ...

Llevar:  to carry


 













Vender: to sell



Tocar: to play (as in an instrument)

Estudiar: to study

 



Huelga de Dolores

The week before Semana Santa in Guatemala is the week that university students protest the ills of the country. Goes by the name of "Huelga de Dolores" (Strike of Pain). Each day of the week is dedicated to a different aspect of the protest, which culminates on Friday with a parade of the lewd, crude and rude of anti-government sentiments.  I took notes, but I can't read them, so if (right, "if") I get this wrong or you're interested in the truth, you can look it up "on the internet".  Believe me, this is the short version:

Back in 1898 there was a huge protest against the persecution and living conditions in Guatemala.  The protest was repeated annually, and over the years the government cracked down by suggesting "with extreme predjudice*" (see below) to the protest leaders that they might find healthier pursuits elsewhere.  And as usual the government was right because the leaders seemed to be dying in great numbers of lead poisoning.  So over the years, the students (the protests were driven by the public university) started to wear hoods to cover their identity, thereby increasing their resistance to lead allergies.  Well, the government spies started keeping track of the clothes worn by the leaders, which of course broke down their resistance to the disease, and they kept dying off.  It seemed the only true immunization was a full robe to complement the hood.  OK there´s that.  THEN, there was this poet, went by the name of Otto Renè Castillo, wrote a poem, which I will loosely paraphrase (because I never actually read it) aqui.  The poem said something along the lines of: "I will join you and walk with you.  You can be my eyes; you can be my voice, etc."  So the government invites him over and asks him to have a seat, and they read him his own poem, and when they get to the part where he says, "You can be my eyes", they say, well I guess you won´t be needing these anymore", so they pop out his eyeballs.  Then they read the part about, "You can be my voice", and they say to him they say, well I guess you won´t be needing this anymore, and they cut out his tongue.  And on went the poem and off went the body parts until just for fun they killed him.  There are more stories to tell, but you´ll have to buy me coffee when I get back to hear them.  Early on, the students collected money to give to the poor.  They still collect money, and a portion still goes to the poor, but there are parties to be had, and the beer has to be paid for, so . . . . Anyway nobody has been killed since (I think) 2002, and now the protest is at most accepted, at least tolerated by the government.  The different colored robes and hoods signify the area of study, por ejemplo: white for med students, green for agriculture, etc.  Black is for the group that organizes the demonstrations.

So any-hoo, on the Friday of Juelga de Dolores we wandered up to see the protest/parade.  What is it that all of the State Department warnings say about avoiding political demonstrations?  I forget.  So any-hoo, we just happen to park our behinds (unknowingly) in front of the house of one of the presidential candidates (this is an election year), so all of the floats that pass by stop in front of the house to ahhmmm, "express their displeasure" so to speak.  Right place at the right time.  Or the antithesis depending on your outlook on life.

* meaning, they popped extreme caps in there asses.

Chicharon Heaven

OK, let me appologize in advance.  It´s been a couple of weeks since our last confession, so we have a lot of sins to report.  This could be a long one.


So last week we visited a local guardaría (child care place), with Eduardo, who you´ll get to know in the coming weeks.  Every week Eduardo takes food to the kids there.  They´re very poor, and it´s really sad to see how little they have.  Jane and I played with the kids for awhile, making animal sounds - it turns out I can do a mean elefante imitation.  Let me just say right here, that I rocked the house.  I mean these kids were clapping, pounding the tables, and shouting Dar-rel, Dar-rel, Dar-rel!  I´m pretty big in Xela.  I returned yesterday for an encore show and again knocked ´em dead.  If any of you want tickets to next week´s performance, let me know and I can get you backstage passes.  I´m still trying to drum up some groupies, but since I broke up with Besi, onacounta she was also seeing Jane, I´m back to being Mr. Monogomous again.  But I´m getting ahead of myself.

Last Saturday, we went with our Guatemalan family to visit their relatives in San Felipe, about an hour drive from here.  We packed the 13 of us into a rented mini van meant for 7.  The purpose: to procure and consume the best chicharones on the face of the earth.  Now for those of you who aren´t familiar with chicharones, what you do is go down to your nearest 7-11, and pick up a bag of pork rinds, take a bite, then throw the rest away because they taste like crap.  Pork rinds in the US are boring at best, denuded of all flavor and substance.  Chicharones on the other hand are pig skins, boiled in their own fat until crispy, but still retaining all the luscious, wonderous, juicy, artery-hardening fat.  Add a little lime and MMMMmmmmmmm.  So for breakfast, that´s what we had, along with tamales, pig blood, tortillas, etc.  Well worth the trip.  BUT, we´re not done. 


 From there we headed off to a park called Xetalul.  It´s a mini Disney World.  Mini countries, with restaurants, rides, entertainers, etc.  We were  pleasantly surprised by the place.  Some of the group then went to a nearby water park, which apparently was even better than Xetalul, while Gladis, Sergio, Jane and I blasted off to another of Gladis´ cousins to have lunch & tour their property.  They make a living off of their milk, but also have plenty of fruit trees & veggies.  They have some land a few miles away where they grow bananas, mangos, papayas & coffee.  We like coffee.  So it was here that I first met Besi, and we milked our first cow.  That was a hoot.  Never had milk straight from a teat before.


Me & Besi - 1st date, 2nd base.  Oh yeah,
I still got it. (or so I thought)



Jane, with Besi the slut.




After school on most days, Eduardo (see, I told you you´d hear more about Eduardo) takes anyone who´s interested out on an excursion to a nearby village or some other place of interest to see an interesting church or market, or to see how they dye thread for their colorful fabrics.  I really like the excursions, more for the going than for the being there.  We usually take chicken buses, so named for the number of chickens on the buses (but Jane thinks it´s because of the fact that they like to play chicken with other chicken buses).  I like to sit in the front seat when I can.  That´s the best place if you want to see your life pass in front of you.  It´s also the best place to see the looks on pedestrians´ faces just before they´re about to die.  The kids´ expressions are especially precious.  Gringos actually pee themselves.  I know; I like to walk around too.  Through slots between people and cars and buses and buildings that americans in a mini cooper would need two people outside guiding them slowly through, these drivers fly their buses through at 70 mph with a cell phone in one ear.


Are you guys still awake?


So night before last was fun.  After Eduardo and I returned from the guardaria I was feeling a bit woozy, so I laid down for awhile.  I kept feeling worse, until I had to try to get to a bathroom.  Almost made it too.  Not wanting to blast past everyone having dinner, I head for the outside bathroom, and just before I got there, I passed out on the hard tile floor.  Yes, of course I hit my head on the tile floor, but luckily my fall was cushioned by the rose bush.  So Eduardo (poor Eduardo) sees me go down & calls for help, and before you know it the entire family, and half the school, are out there looking down at me trying to decide if they should call an ambulance, take me to the hospital, or finish their dinner.  Luckily half of the school consists of pre pre-med students.  I could see it in their eyes that they wanted to cut me open.  So anyway, I didn´t go to the Dr. and Helga, a nurse/soon to be going to Med school, and Jane nursed me back to health and now I´m hungry again.  So I think I´ll go eat now.

Oooo, OOoooh, before I eat, you know how California and Washington brag about how they can brave earthquakes and volcanoes and such?  Guatemala kicks their ass.  Both states at once, with one county tied behind its back.  On a good(?) day, you can see a plume of ash spewing from a nearby volcano.  On a bad day, depending on the wind, it´s like a smog in your face, on your glasses and in your teeth.  That PLUS we´ve felt two earthquakes in the three weeks we´ve been here.

Whew.  Sorry if this was long.  Sorry if it was over the top.  (You should see what my editor took out).  Sorry about the run-on sentences, but I was running out of periods and still have a lot of commas left.  Sorry about any misspellings, but I tried to spell check it, and since this computer is set up in español, everything except "no" gets highlighted.

later

A Few Views from Here