Saludos!
The past three Saturdays in Xela can sum up the eh-hem, ¨range¨of experiences I have had while living in the highlands of Guatemala. As I write you from this internet cafe, Santana is blasting from the small radio in the corner and school children in uniforms are rushing home for lunch--which is the main meal here as opposed to dinner in the States...the smell of fresh tortillas and tamalitos (which I have since learned have tons of calcium and contribute to the low rate of osteoperosis in women in Guatemala)...so forgive me if I am a little distracted...
Saturday, February 24.
New friends--Willy (Guatemala and wherever he feels like, USA) and Emerson (from Washington State) and I attended a Mayan Ceremony. This is how it started: Friday afternoon, I am having cafe de olla (black coffee with spices like cinammon) with Willy and he says, ¨What are you doing tomorrow?¨and I say ¨Going on the school field trip to San Francisco,¨to which he says, ¨Want to change your plans and attend a Mayan New Year Ceremony in a nearby town Cajola?¨ SURE, I say. Then he tells me we have to MEET at quarter to six the next morning. Suuuure..I hear myself repeat the word and hope I don´t let myself down once I hear my travel watch alarm thingy going off while it is pitch black out... This is and was an incredible opportunity and I´m glad I went.
According to Mayan tradition, New Year´s Day is spent honoring the Gods and performing a number of blessings on the land, the rain, the crops, our health, etc. The official ceremony started in the town center and I was struck by the vibrant colors, Mayan faces--which I realized are much like my own as um, my ancestors and hence I AM Mayan. What I did not expect to see were the dozens of American flags, one guy with a Red Sox hat, another with a Martha´s Vineyard sweatshirt. ??? I wondered if this was a dream or something. Then Willy explained that thousands of people from this town fled to the USA (mainly Chicago, Atlanta, New Jersey, and parts of Vermont and Michigan) during the civil war. Once the political climate settled hre, they returned and have since then started foundations that connect people from their town all over the States and of course, Cajola in Guatemala. Some split their time between the USA and Cajola, thus the flags. They are proud to be a part of both places. Go figure, I´m discussing Brattleboro, Vermont and how it compares to Stowe...¨that¨Latino bookstore in Chicago...peanut butter and jelly...all in western Guatemala!
Back to the Mayan New Year. We listened to three men play the marimba (like a piano, sorta). We all marched around town and climbed a montanita (small mountain) to be ¨closest to Heaven.¨ About 80-100 people in all, we spent about five hours at the top of the hill. The men built a big fire stack, sugar was sprinlked on the ground in meaningful symbols, we held rocks and candles and watched as a chicken was sacrificed (apparently in the olden days humans were sacrificed as well). About 20 Mayan sacerdotes were present and they blessed people according to their ¨nahual¨which is like their symbol, like their ¨sign¨in Mayan culture. It is determined by your birth date, etc. I learned my nahual name and symbol, and don´t worry mom and dad, I don´t plan on getting a tattoo of this symbol anytime soon...well...
I did receive a blessing-cleansing, which involved a sage brush hitting the top of my head a few times and enduring the heat of the immense fire pit to the point of wondering if it wasn´t such a good idea to wear my GAP black cashmere sweater today...In all seriousness, I loved being so close--literally and metaphorically--to the Mayan culture. After the ceremonies, the elder women poured cups of atole de maiz which had been roasting on fire pits all morning, along with sweet brown bread and tamiltos with frijoles (black benas). More marimba, more singing, more eating and talking and praying. Lots, LOTS of answering questions on my part...Who are you? Where are you from? Here? US? Both? Your mother´s last name is? So now you work where? What? Writing? Oh? How old are you? Do you want to have kids? This last question is my favorite. Especially over lunch with everyone staring at me, awaiting my response.
By the end of the day, we were all exhausted. We ate (again) at a comedor (small diner) in a nearby town San Juan. A Spanish documentary filmmaker joined us...He towered over Willy and me and swore like a Guatemalan...Willy and Emerson had filmed the ceremony and conducted interviews for their documentary too...They are filming the rest of it while traveling through Mexico and across the border..They have a blog and a utube video right now and they may be in Oaxaca as I write this (hi guys)...
I burned three candles in the ceremony and this year, I shall see how those prayers unfold...Until then, am going to try and post pictures now :)
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