Nuestro Señor de Esquipulas

     This last week, Esquipulas was overrun by thousands of religious pilgrims who had made the trip to Esquipulas to see the Black Christ.  During the week long festivities I saw pilgrims from every country in Central America and Mexico, some from Jamaica and Ecuador and, of course, at least one Estadounidense.  I have a huge amount of respect for the faith that these people have that compels them to travels hundreds or even thousands of miles in often very uncomfortable buses and over questionable roads to worship God.  However, despite my great respect, I have never truly understood the idea behind a religious pilgrimage.  It seems to me that an omnipotent god would be present everywhere in the world, not just one special corner of Guatemala.  And, even if we accept the paradigm that God prefers to operate more profoundly in certain places, wouldn’t she probably chose one of the more awesome places that she spent all that time creating on earth… like at least place with awesome beaches?  That being said, I definitely understand the concept of traveling many miles for a good party, and that is essentially what Esquipulas experienced this week.  As can be expected, thousands of pilgrims bring with them lots and lots of money.  Lots and lots of money attracts people who want to alleviate these travelers of the need to carry that extra weight back home with them.  Hence, a giant street festival complete with food, a carnival, outdoor bars, and vendors selling every product you could ever imagine wanting to buy was born.   When I say anything you could imagine, I mean it; during this festival, one could find almost anything they wanted to blow their money on.  Pots and pans, socks, lighting fixtures for houses, lingerie, tequila shots, gambling, and even supporting the arts (through the medium of the mass amounts of street performers).  It originally struck me as odd that bars were popping up all over the street corners with gambling booths spread liberally throughout the city during a religious holiday but then I realized that these vendors were serving a very useful purpose.  Imagine making the trek all the way to Esquipulas only to realize that you are fresh out of sins to confess.  That would be a tragedy!  Fear not, however, for in one city block you can get brain meltingly drunk, blow your last month’s pay on gambling AND try out your skills at the add-hock shooting range!

    Needless to say, there are a decent amount of people from Esquipulas who do not like the festival very much.  And often with good reason: Esquipulas is full to the brim with pilgrims and salesmen, the sheer quantity of people stealing electricity causes mass blackouts to dominate the town for the majority of the week; a very non-negligible number of people were killed by the crazy driving habits of stressed (and possibly drunk?) people from all corners of Central America; and there are nowhere near enough bathroom or trash facilities in this town to facilitate the hundreds of thousands of pilgrims, meaning that waste (both the normal kind and the human kind) was deposited unceremoniously throughout the city.  Despite these setbacks, the festival brought with it a very fun environment, with everyone there in high spirits and enjoying the week.  And I've heard estimates that this week alone brings in around 40% of the money made in Esquipulas in a year... strangely I didn't hear anyone complain about that.

     At this point I am completely incapable of further explaining the sheer number of people, so I'll leave you with some stats, then lots of pictures.  For the around 10,000 pilgrims who saw the Cristo Negro each day, there was around a 7 hour wait in line.  Given that there is only one Cristo Negro, 10000 pilgrims and 86,400 seconds each day, that means each person averaged 7 hours in line for 8.64 seconds of Cristo Negro time.  Truly unbelievable. 

     I would also like to offer my sincerest apologies for last week's blog to all of my friends who struggle reading all the way through the name of their cereal every morning, and those of you who have asked for less words and more pictures (here's looking at you Eddie).  As my act of contrition for the egregious number of words unaccompanied by pictures in the last blog, please accept these 30 pictures of Esquipulas under the siege of the pilgrims.

These following pictures are of the streets of Esquipulas during the "feria."  On the right is during, on the left is the Monday after the holiday.  

Above, on the left, is the bar selling tequila shots.  

Below are pictures of the carnival that came to town.  There have been three carnivals in town (for about 3 weeks each) since I came to Esquipulas.  All three have played "we no speak americano" without stop for their entire stay here.  I never want to hear that song again. 

The front lawn of the Basilica was transformed into a makeshift campground. 

   

The night leading up the the 15th, they have a concert in the main plaza of the Basilica.  They call it the serenade of the Cristo.  It was completely packed, and a lot of fun.

To use an old, tired platitude; there was "standing room only" for the mass at midnight on the 15th.  Oh, and I don't mean in the basilica, I mean in the area directly surrounding it, in the courtyard, in the park, and in the streets surrounding the park. 

And then, after being up all night for the mass, I decided I would skip Laudes and sleep in.  I was woken up about 7:00 by a helicopter that seemed like it was flying awfully close to the Basilica.  

Turns out the Vice president of Guatemala wanted to stop by to see the Cristo.  

To all of my Chile friends:  I think meeting the VP tops meeting Ariel Dorfman. 

Sadly, hundreds of thousands of pilgrims have quite a negative impact on a little town like Esquipulas.  However, no later than Sunday afternoon, they townspeople took to the streets en masse each with a broom in hand to clean up the mess.  By Monday, the only places where I could take an appropriately dirty picture were in the places where they couldn't reach!

Oh, and some people showed up from Mexico to do some dances. 

I think they represent the Conquistadores?

After all of their sword fights, they all advanced on this poor woman.

I didn't really understand it.

   
P.S.  For anyone interested, apparently they do this twice more (although on a smaller scale) while I am here in Esquipulas.  March 8th (yep, mardi gras) for the celebration of bringing the Cristo from Antigua to Esquipulas, and Holy Week.  You are more than welcome to come down and experience the madness for yourself.

2010-Greatest hits

        The beginning of a new year always feels like the perfect time to do some reflecting on the year past and the one to come.  2010 was a pretty huge year for me, with graduation and me entering the "real world" for a whole 3 months (long enough for me to realize I wanted nothing to do with it) and my subsequent (and not unrelated) trip to Guatemala.  While the first part of the year was very important for me, it is undoubtedly not of interest to you, my fine reader, who traversed thousands of bytes of internet information to arrive at this page in search of stories about my latest experiences and jinxes in Guatemala.  After all, how would stories about my life in Minnesota fit in a blog titles "Adam Between Oceans"?...

     Anyways, I've been in Guatemala four months now.  A fact that surprises me every day.  It amazes me both that the time has gone so fast and that I have fit so much into the short 4 months I have been here.  I've now begun my second English class, which meets Tuesday and Thursday, completing the 5 day English class cycle.  I'm working on some projects at the Ciudad de Felicidad and, although the Hospital idea crashed, and the garden took a nose dive, it's been good to be able to do some good work there, and at least playing with the kids is always fun.  Starting next week, the third week in 2011, I will be helping in San Benito's high school with English classes (and maybe math and physics?) and, as always, I'm having fun in the library and the orange orchard.  It actually amazes me that, though I haven't accomplished a whole lot, I've been incredibly successful at making myself busy in a monastery where my only real obligation is to pray twice a day. 

     That being said, I would like to use this blog to write some of the memories I have accumulated over the past 4 months into the internet history books.  I'll try to make this more interesting than just a lame old journal entry, but if I fail, please accept my apologies.  

Slang

Slang is an interesting thing.  Every culture has it, it changes drastically from place to place, and it gives some great great local flavor to the dialect of a place.  As far as I can tell, slang first came about when everybody in a certain family, town, city, region, country, or continent decide that some nonsense word will henceforth mean something else or, even worse, that a perfectly fine word should take on a new, often more sinister, meaning; and there you have it, new slang is born (holy long sentence batman!).  I remember in grade school, one student decided that erasers should be slang for breasts.  It made no sense, but there you have it.  
     While I was in Chile I found special pleasure in seeking out new slang to use with my gringo friends to make us feel more like Chileans.  It was a fun game that left me speaking an interesting 50/50 mix of Spanish and Chilean street slang after my 4 months there.  This turned out to be less of a fun game and more of a curse when I returned home to college Spanish classes where I was barely able to communicate with the other, less jaded students.   Sadly, this Chilean slang curse has followed me from the shores of South America to Guatemala where, instead of the fun game I once found it to be, slang has become a matter of survival.  I constantly catch myself accidentally slipping some Chilean slang into my dialect or worse, only knowing the Chilean word for a certain object, and being completely unable to communicate my idea.  The following is a list of Guatemalan slang that I have picked up in my time here, and that you might find useful if one day you find yourself in the land of eternal spring.

Pupusa

     At dinner one night a monk offered me what I have come to know as an "empanada."  He explained to me that this particular "empanada" was from Honduras, where they (besides being far better than the Guatemalan kind) are called "pupusas."  The next day I went to watch the posada with a student from my class (who happens to be a very attractive female) and afterward, she suggested that we eat some empanadas at a place I know called "Pupuseria Sinai."  Wanting to show off how cultured I am, I asked her if she liked eating "pupusas," which kind of "pupusas" she prefers, and if she likes “pupusas” with salsa, because I often find they are too dry without salsa.  I literally fit the word "pupusa" into that sentence 3 times.  She looked at me funny and said that, here, they are called empanadas.  The next day I come to find out that here, a mere 10 km from Honduras, pupusa means something completely different.... it is slang for the female reproductive organ.  
Chulo
     Does NOT mean ugly or out of fashion.  It actually means cool or nice.  Don't believe me?  See my first  AWFLE. 

Baluk/Cuñado

     A favorite of the monks here.  Cuñado mean brother in law in spanish, and Baluk is the translation in Quiché, a local dialect.  They like to call people brother in law as a joke, insinuating that they are married to your sister.  They don't seem to be bothered by the fact that they have taken vows of celibacy and I haven't, meaning that the only logical reason to call me brother in law is if I am married to their sisters...

Puchika

     Sounds pretty bad huh?  Actually just means something akin to "shoot" or "darn."  The first time I heard the Abbott say this I was taken a bit off guard.  

Enculado

     A vulgar way of saying "in love."  Some friends and I changed the words to a popular song to include this, but they conveniently forgot to tell me that it is not a nice word.  Too bad for them that they were not around to laugh when I unwittingly began singing our edited version of the song in the orphanage where I work...

Editing

     From what I have seen, Latin Americans do not believe in editing radio/tv shows.  This can lead to some uncomfortable moments if you're not careful.  For example, listening to the radio in a restaurant when a certain song from a few years back by Eamon came on the radio ("I don't want you back").  For those who don't remember it, on the USA radio stations it sounded something like "F*** what you said it don't mean S*** now... F*** you you B**** I don't want you back."  Needless to say, without editing, it sounded a little different here. Now, I'm willing to accept the possibility that I was probably the only fluent English speaker there so there's a decent chance that nobody else was put off by the whiny self-pitying lyrics.  However, I personally believe that, thanks to movies, music, and the internet, everybody in the world knows the meaning of all 7 of the words that George Carlin is not allowed to say on television.   Therefore, I think that maybe they couldv'e picked a better song for a family restaurant.  That being said, throughout the entire song, not one person in the entire place batted an eye at the radio.  

     Another interesting  nmoment came when I was watching TV in the TV room.  I was mindlessly flipping channels when the Abbott walked in.  As soon as he entered I began talking to him with the TV tuned to a channel showing a movie starring Ashton Kutcher.  After some small talk between the Abbott and me, I handed him the remote and we turned our eyes to the TV (to watch the movie that he thought I had been watching all night) just as a scene in a strip club came on.  Thanks to the wondrous lack of editing in Guatemala, what ensued was a sort of awkward-off as both of us tried not to seem uncomfortable at the really astounding number of boobs in this scene.  He thought I was watching the movie, so he didn't want to change the channel, and I didn't want to make an already awkward situation SUPER awkward by talking, or leaving, or moving, or even breathing.  So we sat in absolute uncomfortable silence for the duration of the scene.  Thankfully it ended in a fight, allowing me to make my escape from the room on a manly note.

Animals

     Esquipulas is a smaller town on the East side of Guatemala:  A side that has more than once been compared to the Wild West.  From the prevalence of cowboy boots, hats and belt buckles, to the unbelievable number of people who walk around toting a 6 shooter (or sawed off shotgun… I hear those were popular in the Wild West too), the analogy is somewhat apt.  It also turns out to be an apt analogy when talking about animals.  They enjoy a freedom here which their cousins in the USA  rarely experience.  I'll admit, the first time I saw barn-fulls of animals walking freely around the streets here, this little gringo from the Twin Cities Minnesota was a bit taken aback.  From cows shutting down highways to 8 year old boys leading entire packs of bulls down the street, in terms of animal freedom, Esquipulas has earned the distinction of Wild Wild East in my book.

Goats

     Aside from walking in packs down the streets, I once had one attend my English class.  He just waltzed right on in, and I think he would’ve stayed if the other students hadn’t kicked him out.

Cows

     Cows always make for some fun stories.  From my first day in Guatemala when a herd of cows shut down the main highway and we had to wait in the car until they passed, to the soccer game that was stopped when the herd of cows decided that they would like to graze on the field, cows and Guatemala have a long and storied past.  Including this guy, who just wanted to come inside for lunch.

Chickens

     Chickens are well loved in Guatemala.  By far the most consumed animal (chicken goes well with black beans), they are almost all free range.  And not like the “free range” in the United States where that is just a sticker on the more expensive chicken.  There are chickens everywhere here… just running around freely.  Ever heard of “chicken buses?”  They’re called that because many people bring their chickens on board with them. They are like house pets that you eat.

     That's about all I got for the greatest hits of Guatemala 2010.  My first few months here in Guatemala have been some very interesting and full months.  I have learned an incredible amount, seen some really cool things, and met some great people.  I only hope that the next few months are as interesting and full as the past few. 

Christmas

     The monastic life often becomes a little to tedious and regimented for me: I have to be at prayer at 6:00 am and 6:30 pm, I eat at 7:30, 12:30, and 7:00 sharp, and I'm inside the monastery by 9:00 pm every night.  While the Christmas season did little to change the rigid schedule I live by (granted, it did change a little on Christmas day and new years day), it did lighten the spirit a little.  The monastery saw the addition of quite a few nativity scenes (all of which are still up, a good sign for those of you who have yet to to take down the Christmas decorations), there were quite a few guests staying with us in the monastery, the people in general were in a festive mood, and the weeks surrounding Christmas are completely packed with feast days, meaning the customary convivial gatherings we always have on feast days (beer and wine included!) were kicked into overdrive.  The holiday season even brought a change in the menu!

Yes, those are still black beans and a corn tortilla, BUT we got a delicious tamal to go with it!

     Yes, the Christmas holiday was indeed festive, and I had an opportunity to break from the day to day routine I have fallen in.  However as festive as Christmas itself was, the week after Christmas was far more exciting for me.  After the extra workload of more masses, more blessings, and just more people around the basilica in general during the build up to Christmas (which, surprisingly, took a sharp decline on Christmas day when everyone stayed home to be with their families), many of the monks and postulates got a rest day the week after Christmas.  Some of them used this day to go home and visit their families, and some even invited me.  I was lucky enough to attend a lunch-feast in Zapotal with Father Serafin, and spend a night in Carboneras with Elias and his family.  While, as always, it was nice to get out and spend some time away from the monastery, the real joy in the week was getting a chance to see some new parts of Guatemala.  While I've said before that Guatemala is a beautiful country, this week really solidified that in my mind.
     My first trip was to Zapotal for a family reunion with Father Seraphin.  Zapotal is an aldea centered around coffee cultivation high in the Guatemalan mountains.  I had a really good time, the view was amazing, the food was delicious, and the people were really nice.  With the exception of one girl with a special affinity for gringos who dubbed herself "Eva" when she met me.... she was REALLY nice.  The weather was a little to hazy for good pictures of the gorgeous surroundings, but I did what I could.

  
     After the Zapotal feast I was expecting a couple of nice days to recuperate:  Meeting a lot of new people in a foreign language and traveling hours over roads that have never seen asphalt takes it out of you.  However, as soon as I got back to the monastery, Elias, one of the postulates at the monastery, invited me to spend the night at his family's house in Carboneras.  I've never been one to turn down an invitation, so right away the next morning, we were on the road again.  Carboneras is quite a bit different than Zapotal.  Zapotal is a sprawling community in the mountains that focuses on coffee production and is (especially by Guatemalan standards) very well off monetarily.  Carboneras is more of a farming community in the lowlands of the country.  There are 70 houses, and everybody knows everybody else.  Hence, it was even more obvious that I am a foreigner than in Esquipulas.  We spent the morning and part of the afternoon moseying around Carboneras meeting all of Elias' friends and I had the chance to get a feel for the town.  For a tiny town in the foothills, it is really a beautiful place, and the people are really really nice; even if there's not much to talk about in a town of 70 houses (most "conversations" I witnessed were passed 80% in silence).   

     One thing I really liked is the amount of space each family had.  Unlike Esquipulas, where people are crammed in as tight as possible, or Zapotal, where extra space needs to be cleared out of the mountain to be usable, the families in Carboneras each had their own plot with ample room to grow some crops and let the children (and 5-6 dogs each family had) play.
     After meeting so many people over the past couple of days, I found myself almost completely without energy after lunch so we took about an hour to just relax.  After awhile Elias woke me up and asked if I wanted to go to the beach.  Confused, not only because I was awakened from a nap, but because we were in the desert, miles from the nearest lake or ocean, I responded with a tentative "sí."  It turns out that the "beach" is actually a dried up river bed about 150 meters across with a tiny stream flowing through it that is hardly deep enough to get your ankles wet. 

Foiled again by Latin American humor.

      I remember reading a book for one of my spanish classes in which one of the characters scolds an aspiring knight for almost riding a Yegua (mare) because a true knight would never ride a Yegua.  The wannabe knight, much like me, didn't know there was a difference between caballo and yegua.  En route to another village to visit some more of Elias' family Elias told me that I could ride a horse.  Unbeknownst to me it wasn't a horse I was riding, but a measly mare!  (I would never have known except I kept saying caballo and Elias kept correcting me).  However, soon after we arrived at the beach, I realized why no self-respecting knight would ride a Yegua... It wouldn't gallop!

 Imagine how cool this picture would be if I was on a horse!

    After a jaunt along the "beach," we arrived in the aldea of "Hobo" and I realized that Elias' father, the old man shown below, is not only one of the toughest old men on this earth, (he is 80 some years old, drinks whiskey likes it's water, and is just as active as I am) he was also one of the most fecund, in his heyday (which apparently ended a short 12 years ago as his youngest daughter has that many years).  9 children between the ages of 40 something to 12!  A true Guatemalan hero (Although, granted his wife is also a Guatemalan hero). 

     He is also completely responsible for the town of Hobo.  There are 5 houses nestled into the mountains, each occupied by one of his children.  It was definitely cool to see that places like this exist in Guatemala.  Quite a stark contrast to the daily life I have here in the monastery.  They produce just about everything they need to survive, and live their lives quietly in the hills.  Very cool people.
   
     The Christmas season was definitely one to remember.  Through all the traveling, I widened my knowledge and appreciation of Guatemala, saw some awesome things, and met some really cool people.
   
     And, because I've been so lazy about getting this blog out, I have two bonuses for you.  First is a quote from Elias' father.  After we finished dinner, I stood up to help clear the table.  He grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to the table, looked me straight in the eyes and said:  "Here at my house, the women take care of the table."  Then he poured me another shot of whiskey.

     The second bonus is this picture.  It is of the inside of the microbus I rode in from Carboneras to Esquipulas.  There were 28 people fit into this conversion van.  There are only 13 seatbelts.  The butt in my face was not someone passing through.  He spent the entire 40 minute ride like that.  And yes, there are three people hanging out of the open door.

God Bless Guatemala.

New Years Day

Happy dawn of 2011 to everyone!  Here's wishing you a happy year and hoping that the last was everything you hoped for!
My new year's resolution... Blog more.