Copán

     While the The Catholic Healthcare East crew was here we worked hard, but everybody needs a break once in a while.  After a week of hard work, we got ours.  Most of the crew took the day to lay low, escape the heat, and recharge after a hard working and emotional week.  I, however, took advantage of our time off by hopping in a car with two other volunteers and heading across the border of Honduras to see the Mayan ruins of Copán.  It was truly incredible to see the ruins, learn the history, and imagine how this site looked at the height of its empire, 1400 years ago when it was inhabited by thousands of people with a vibrant culture of farming, sports, and art.  What made this trip even more impressive was the guide we had.  He has spent most of his life studying the ancient Maya, participating in archeological digs, and now, sharing his information about the Mayan culture with others.  On our tour I learned a lot about the site of Copán from its glory days all the way its present, as a partially uncovered treasure trove of information for archeologists and historians and photo op for tourists from all corners of the world.  It is in this spirit of good information and great stories that I present you with my history of Copán.  Although I have already forgotten the majority of what I learned on my tour, I will present you with what I remember.  However, I would like to warn you now that I'm not even kind of a historian, so I can't vouch for every piece of information, but I'll do whatever I can to make it a good story.  If you are really into the juicy details, you are more than welcome to find them here.

     The story of Copán begins thousands of years ago with a salty and waterlogged group of Polynesians finding the new world (note, this is not proven, but is the version of the story the tour guide went with).  They landed and, as per their modus operandi, began developing cultures, building buildings and, most importantly, making statues.  Although we have no idea what they called themselves, we call them Olmecs, and know them for their giant stone head statues (sounds familiar).  They inhabited the light green area on the map below.  
     Time passed and civilizations fell.  When the Olmec's day had passed,  the people moved west and, once again began developing civilizations, building buildings, and making statues.  It is during this period that Copán flourished as a city and became the art center of the Mayan world.  This is the dark green area on the map.  During this period the Mayan people developed very advanced architecture and art as well as trade systems and science.
     However, as all civilizations eventually do, this Mayan period also came to an end and, once again, the people moved west and began the last great period of the Maya, denoted by the lightest section on the map in the Yucatan peninsula.  
    

     Copán began its time as a great city around 400 A.D., flourished for 400 years and collapsed around 800 A.D.  It then spend roughly the next 800 years being forgotten until a European explorer whose name I don't remember discovered some funny looking rocks in the middle of the tropical forest now known as Central America. 

     As most old timey explorers did, he started digging and subsequently robbing all the cool stones he could carry.  While the Kings and Queens of whatever nation he was from were probably amused by his funny stone statues, they weren't made of gold so Copán was once again forgotten for over 200 years.  The next group of people who found Copán were of the "uncover everything as fast as you can" mindset, and began to dig.  They were rewarded by finding some absolutely incredible temples and stone architecture. 

     However, these people began to dig at the beginning of the industrial revolution when rain was still made primarily out of water, an element that generally gets along pretty well with stone temples.  Right about this time humans began our love affair with burning stuff: oil, natural gas, coal, trees, corn, and the rain changed into something a little more sinister: a compound which goes by the terrifying moniker "acid rain."  Archeologists now realize that uncovering things, while fun and interesting, exposes them to all of the elements, including this, the great villain of 20th century archeology.  The compromise that was struck in an attempt to balance preservation and discovery was that they would stop wholesale uncovering immediately and do their archeological exploration using tunnels.  The result of this digging ban can be seen in the picture below where half of the temple is uncovered and half is still a mound of dirt.

     In the hundreds of years that Copán was uninhabited the river that once sustained this great city changed its course to flow right over the ruins.  While I stated earlier that water generally gets along well with rocks, this is one of the instances in which is definitely does not.  To save the ruins, the scientists changed the course of the river.  While it did a decent amount to hurt the ruins, it also did an amazing job of uncovering them, and with the river out of the way the scientists began asking questions about the people that once inhabited this area.  Once the waters receded, the archeologists found human remains all over the area pictured below and dubbed it "the cemetery."  After some excavating they discovered that it wasn't a cemetery at all, but the upper class housing area.  The dead bodies were there because of the tradition of burying someone beneath their house after their death.  When the river began to flow over this area it washed out all of the "graves" and uncovered the bodies.

     As the archeologists dug, they discovered more and more about this very intricate civilization and its hierarchy.  The king and royal family were on top, with the king viewed as the link between heaven and earth.  As the artwork in this shrine at the top of the sacred temple suggests, the king was thought to maintain the space between heaven and hell.  He would enter the door, with giant snake statues on either side, angels above him, and skulls below him, to offer burnt offerings to the gods and to communicate with them.

     He would then exit to relay the gods' message to the people of the upper and royal class who were gathered below. 

If Copán was located in the United States me standing there would probably be a federal offense.

     Only the upper and royal classes, consisting of artists, scientists, merchants, and politicians, were allowed in the upper area of temples and stone houses.  When the king spoke to the general population he used a different temple.  At the top of this giant staircase stood the king, with an altar in his honor below for the people to make offerings.  

     His speaking place overlooked the main courtyard where the people gathered for everything from market days to pok-a-tok games.  The acoustics are so good in this courtyard that someone snapping their fingers at the top of the temple can be heard at the far end of the area below!

     The king would also stand at the top of his temple to watch the pok-a-tok games, which were played on courts like the one below.  The players would be in the middle, and would have to launch a ball made of pure rubber against one of these three figures.  The game often took on such a deep spiritual significance that on certain occasions the captain of the winning team might be sacrificed!  It was considered an honor to him and his family.

     Said sacrifices happened on the altar just in front of this one shown below, and the king would then remove the players heart and place it in the divot on top of the round altar, causing the blood to flow down the channeled grooves.

     I'm told it was just like Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

     Over its 400 year history, the city of Copán had 16 different rulers but due to the tradition of literally building an entirely new royal area on top of their father's when the new kings inherited power, most of the story revolves around the last king to whom all the exposed temples and statues are dedicated.  That's means that every 25 years they would demolish (or sometimes not) the entire royal area - temples, shrines, royal houses, statues - and rebuild the entire thing. 

     That means that underneath these temples are more temples, like in the above picture.  However, these temples have been completely protected from the elements and maintain their true colors and brilliance.  As far as archeology is concerned, that's pretty awesome.

     Towards the end of the Copán empire, the population outnumbered the land's ability to support it.  For any community, especially one based on agriculture, this is bad news.  To reunite the falling empire the king began building and art projects with the aim of drawing connections between himself and the past kings of Copán.  As his empire was crumbling and the peoples' faith in the king/god was failing, he tried to reinvigorate that faith by showing that he was from the same bloodline as the past kings and therefore had the same power.  This plan failed in reuniting the empire, but succeeded in creating some really cool art, so it wasn't all bad...

     This altar, in front of the death temple, shows all 16 kings of Copán in a circle around its body.  The first king is handing power over to the last king. 

     This is perhaps the most famous thing in Copán; the hieroglyphic stairs.  The entire staircase tells the story of every king of Copán through pictures on the steps.
 
     Though Copán ultimately fell, much as every great empire has, through the efforts of the architects, artists, and builders, we still have pieces of the civilization to help us put together the story of what life was like 1400 years ago in this corner of Central America.  Though the people are gone, the now deserted central courtyard almost seems ready for market and the rebuilt temples still have an aura of mythological power.  With a little imagination you can almost feel yourself there during the height of this great empire.

Catholic Healthcare East

     I've been in Guatemala 7 months now and I have come to realize that the old adage about time being a thief is just as true here as it is everywhere else.  I can think back to myself sitting in prayer the day after the Catholic Healthcare West crew left feeling less than confident about the upcoming months.  I felt alone, realizing that I was possibly the only gringo under the age of 60 in all of Esquipulas, I was unsure of my Spanish and lost in a culture that I didn't understand.  Sitting there in vespers I prayed that the time would pass quickly and bring me back home sooner rather than later.  In the 6 months since I said that prayer my situation has changed drastically.  I now have good friends here in Esquipulas, fulfilling, albeit often frustrating, work, and I am mostly comfortable with both the language and the culture.  While I'm now happier and more comfortable here, I realize that the prayer was answered, and time has definitely flown.  As I heard that another Catholic Healthcare group was coming to Esquipulas I couldn't help but draw comparisons to what my life was like when the first crew came, but more than anything I was aware that working with this group would signal the beginning of the end for me in Guatemala.  Just as the first group of doctors, who came right on the heels of Kenan leaving, represented the end of the beginning for me and my last taste of home before diving headfirst into the Esquipulas and the Monastery of Jesus Christ Crucified, this second group of doctors would start the countdown to my leaving Guatemala.  As that approaches my mind has begun to wander to the United States.  To the good things like spring time, baseball season, friends, and family, but also to the bad things like politics, a prolonged invasion in Libya, and, of course, MTV.  I find myself often wondering what it will be like to go back after so long in Central America.  How have I changed?  How has the USA changed?  Half my friends have jobs now, the other half are back in school.... In the midst of all this inner turmoil the doctors from Catholic Healthcare East found their way into my quiet little life in Esquipulas and gave me a great big shove towards the end of my 9 months in Esquipulas.

     The last time I worked with a medical mission I served as a pharmacy assistant; a fun job, but more for the people I was working with than the work I was doing.  This time around I was hoping for something a little more hands on.  Luckily, this new group had different plans for me: They asked me to translate for the eye doctor and dentist!  While I took the job placement as a compliment on my improving Spanish skills, it soon became evident that translating was going to be quite a bit more work than I imagined. Translating itself is a tough job; even after mastering the context specific words (dental floss, cavity, etc.) it is still a task of listening to a phrase in English, saying it in Spanish, then listening to something else in Spanish and saying it in English.  It was more than a little tough on the brain.  To make matters worse, not only was I doing translation for both the dentist and the eye doctor, but I was doing intake questioning for the dentist and crowd control because I was the only one there who spoke Spanish well enough.  Needless to say, at the end of each day I was exhausted.  With so much work to do I was nearly constantly busy and the week flew by, but even with the hectic schedule I was able to enjoy some time with my fellow "Estadounidenses" and make some new friends. 

I also got to do some teaching!

     By the end of the week the exhaustion and emotions started to add up.  I found that translating is an strange job.  By virtue of being the one communicating with the patients I got to share in all of the happy moments; everything from old ladies baking us cookies to mothers hugging us in thanks for helping their children.  However, I was also forced to partake in the bad moments; from "There's nothing we can do for your eyes, you'll probably be blind within months" to "your teeth are far to decayed, we have to remove them all."  The emotions of these experiences combined with the exhaustion of so much work began to catch up with me.

 
      My work also put me in contact with a part of Guatemala that I've had very little contact with as I've been living inside a gorgeous monastery; the poor campesinos.  The goal of the doctors was to serve people who have no access to other health care, which brought us to some of the outlying villages.  Spending so much time with this group of people who are so numerous in Guatemala yet still so "invisible" was an eye opening experience for me, and made me think a lot about what What we were doing here.  While I understand and appreciate the idea behind medical missions and other volunteer groups, it always has seemed a little shortsighted to me to give someone vitamins but put no thought into the systemic problems that caused them to be malnourished in the first place. 
    
     Throughout the week this problem kept bothering me.  Everyday, with every group of people, I saw problems that couldn't be solved simply by giving some pills to a few people.  After an especially emotional day in which we saw particularly marginalized people from a very isolated and poor village I had a conversation with one of the doctors who also has a very deep interest in the deeper problems behind this poverty.  That particular day I was having trouble communicating all day long.  When I spoke to many of the people they would either just stare blankly back or lose interest and walk away mid-sentence.  Even when I did get some of them to talk with me, they were not really formulating coherent thoughts.  At first this frustrated me a lot, but after talking it over with some doctors who experienced the same thing I realized that this was not them being rude, but could be a result of serious malnourishment.  For me this was a tough idea to grasp.  I had always thought that people have at least some control over their lives, but for some people, their lives are mostly decided for them before they are born.  The poor farmers can't afford adequate nutrition, so pregnant mothers go hungry.  Due to malnourishment, the child's brain and body don't develop completely.  This problem is compounded by the lack of nutrition during the developing years after birth.  Without proper development they are doomed to be poor farmers who will once again not be able to provide proper nutrition for their future children.  I realized the depth of the problem when the dentist had to pull out every tooth that a 40 something woman had left because they were so rotted.  He asked her if she could afford dentures.  She thought for a little while and said "Maybe.  If the coffee harvest is good this year."

     Seeing this deep cyclical nature of this poverty was troubling, and kept bothering me for the rest of the week.  However, there was lots of work to do and I was able to get caught up in it so the week just slipped away.  It really felt nice to have actual work and be needed after being here so long without any serious job.

     At the end of the week the dentist and eye doctor headed home I began to work with the rest of the doctors who stayed behind.  After such a long week we had Sunday off.  A couple of the doctors and I took advantage of our day of rest and took a trip to Copán, the Mayan ruins just across the border in Honduras.  The ruins were gorgeous and it was a nice segue from one week into the next.  Thankfully, the second week of the doctor's stay here was much more relaxed for me.  For starters, it was only 3 days long, and I was only working on discharge, a job which basically consists of repeating "take these pills twice a day and drink lots of water" over and over again.  On Monday we went to work in one of the villages.  It's always nice to get out of the monastery for awhile, and the people there were so nice to work with.  It was really a great time.
 
     We worked hard that last week, and the people I was with were great, but the week had a very different feel to it.  As their time here neared its end, the doctors began to tire in the work they were doing and get homesick for the places they left behind.  I think any project or experience that has a set limit of time begins to feel tedious as it nears the end, and the doctors definitely fell prey to this effect.  It's been interesting for me to see the different groups of volunteers or pilgrims all go through the same things.  I've even found that as I get closer and closer to my end date I'm finding it harder to do any real work and connect with people.  Because of this, the last week had a slower pace and I had more time to hang out with the doctors.  Even though the dentist had left, I was still bothered by the poverty we'd witnessed and discussed and I took the free time I had this week to discuss that with the other doctors.  Eventually, after talking it over with some of the doctors, I came to the conclusion that the "big picture" problems are there because they are hard to fix.  If there was an easy solution, somebody would have already found it.  That being said, because it is difficult is no reason not to try to do something.  If you look only at the big picture (something I do far to often) it's easy to get discouraged and lose hope, but if you chose one aspect of the problem and work to fix it you can rejoice in the little victories while still working towards bettering the big picture.  I suppose that's really what the doctors are doing here, trying to help people in the only way they know how.  It might not be changing the world today, but it's working towards a better future.