Greetings folks!
I am writing this from Panahachel as I listen to the torrential downpour outisde. I just spent the past two days in various towns on the shores of Lake Atitlan, voted as one of the top 2 most beautiful bodies of water in the world. Its is nestled high up in the mountaisn and ringed by volcanos that plunge down into aqua blue water. The pueblos that dot the shores of the lakes are all an interesting mix of intensly traditional communities and super new age hippies who have set up meditation centres and holistic retreats. Its been a mellow couple of days although I have not found my inner peace as promised by so many of the posters that line the local cafes!
On the way to the Lake we swung by the town of Chichicastenago which is host to one of the biggest markets in Guatemala. Stall after stall of tourist trinkets compete with oodles of vendors selling fabrics for locals, fresh vegetable and squaking chickens. Absolute mayhem - gorgeous. At the centre of this chaos is a massive white church that is used as a worship site for the local blend of Mayan and Catholic spirituality. It is customary to make an offering on the church steps of incense before entering so one must pass through a thick cloud of rich smoke to enter to main church doors. Inside the centre aisle is lined with small platforms where people make offerings of flowers, corn, alcohol and burn candles. It is believed that different areas of the church hold the spirits of different ancestors and each area has its own alter for offerngs and prayers. At the front of the church is the cross and place for christian prayers, altough the front alter is also home to the the spirits of the oldest ancestors.
As I sat in the church pew watching the various rituals unfold around me a little girl, Mishell, came and sat down beside me and asked me for a gift of a quetzal (a dollar). I declined but we continued to chat and were soon best friends, especially after I told her my name was Michelle too (Leslie has proven to be a difficult name to pronounce here so I have been going by my middle name Michelle instead). Turns out she is in Primero (first grade) which is the same age group as my kids at the project so I knew exactly where she was at in school. She was eager to show me that she new how to count to 500 so we went out into the market and bought a pen. As we were walking back to the church she stopped off at one of the market stalls and then lead me back past the flower vendors and shamens burning incense inside. We sat down along the wall at the back of the church and she proceeded to write out 1 to 100 for me with great pride. When she was done, she giggled, reached into her skirt and handed me the banana she had bought me outside. As we worked we slowly gathered a small crowd of the other little kids who hustle for money in the church. Half of them went to school and half didnt. I tried to give one of the little girls Maria a pen but Mishell told me not to after a brief discussion with Maria in their indigenous language. When I asked why, she said it was because Maria didnt know how to write. When I suggested Maria could use it for art instead, Mishell sighed and explained to me (much like an adult carefully explains the most basic and obvious of concepts to a small child) that Maria didnt know how to hold the pen, let alone use it. Together, Mishell and I ended up writing out the numbers one to ten for Maria, using pictures and the Mayan number system, along with her name. There, against the back of the church surrounded by the sweet smell of incense and the quiet murmers of pagan and christian prayers, Maria carefully studied the piece of paper, looked at me, blushed and then grinned.
From here I am off to the tiny mountain town of Nebaj by myself for a few days, which I am both excited and terrified about. This will be my first truly solo travel experience waaaay off the gringo trail but I figure this is as prepared as I will ever be. My language skills are as strong as they are going to get right now and I have as solid an understanding of the culture and customs as I am will likely gain for the foreseeable future. Despite being here for almost 3 months now I still feel like I havent really done anything alone. I linked into a community of people within days of landing and have done all of my travelling and working with these people. Part of this trip was to prove to myself that I could set alone into the world and manage, so now is the time!
Nebaj is one of three towns that form the Ixil Triangle, a very traditional region buried high up in the mountains. It was also the centre of many of the biggest massacres and devastation during the civil war. One of the main guerilla groups made Nebaj its main base and as a result the military destroyed most fo the towns around it, killing all the villagers and burning their homes to the ground. Survivors were herded into so-called "Model Villages" by the army which were essentially internment camps. Today, the UN is working with the locals to help them return to their homes and turn the camps into functioning townships. Despite my background in human rights and the time spent here I still have a very thin understanding of the civil war. When you are sipping a latte in some cafe in Antigua it is very easy to forget that it was only ten years ago that the Peace Accords were signed after 35 years of war and over 200,000 people killed. There is a local guiding company in Nebaj that does day treks to the surrounding villages with a local guide so I am hoping to spend a few days hiking and learning more, as well as really pushing my spanish skills and seeing what life is like in the backwaters of Guatemala.
The power is flickering so I am going to post this before I lose all of it, and will move onto another posting with my update of the past few weeks. To be continued....
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