Cultural Phenomenons Uncovered!

In a study of my own, I have been observing what phenomenon are most prevelant here in Guate. Here are my findings...

1. The most obvious is the unbelievable kindness and generosity of most everyone I've come in contact with, especially the people at the school.

2. Whenever you think you've seen them all, there is always another use for mayonnaise. Look for it here on tacos, toast, hot dogs, and french fries. This stuff is the SPAM of Central America.

3. In a possibly related issue, dentists appear to have no shortage of work. There are more mouths full of gold dental work in Xela than there are boob jobs in LA. Sunglasses recommended.

4. I have recently found out that the childhood lullaby ¨Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be¨ is half Spanish. I wonder if mothers across the States know what they've been singing to us all these years.

5. Toyota is certainly dominating the automobile market, from the Tercel to the Land Cruiser, I would venture to say that 1 out of 3 vehicles here comes from the Japanese manufacturer.

6. And what more can I say that hasn´t already been said about the crunchy, corn, triangles of goodness. That´s right, they have Doritos, and they come in three new and exciting flavors - Verde Radiante, Nacho Atrevido, y Queso Extremo. And for the equivalent of 20 cents a bag, I think I´ve eaten enough to influence the market.

STUDY SHOWS THAT HONKING CLEARS TRAFFIC, CURES CANCER

(www.xelawho.com)

GUATEMALA CITY, Feb. 6. In what appears by all accounts to be a landmark study, scientists announced this Tuesday that the aggressive, incessant honking so engrained in Guatemalan commuter culture not only instantly breaks up traffic jams, but also seems to cure cancer.

For years, it has been common knowledge that when a seemingly unavoidable queue of cars forms in the street, a few firm, confident horn blasts will remedy the gridlock. To ensure wide dissemination of this knowledge, in 2001 the Guatemalan government erected thousands of billboards featuring an image of a furious driver assaulting his steering wheel, under the large block letters: “MORE. LOUDER. BETTER.”

But in light of these latest findings, says Dr. Javier López, who oversaw the “Horn as Panacea?” study group, authorities may need to redouble their efforts to educate the population.

Sitting in Quetzaltenango's Parque Benito Juarez, watching traffic jam after traffic jam dissolve under a sweet symphony of horn blasts, Dr. López smiled and explained the results of the study. “The positive effects of honking on traffic and urban quality of life in general are already well-known,” the doctor commented. “But we hope our findings additionally demonstrate that a simple horn blast is nothing less than an empirically demonstrable exorcism for the 21st century. Indeed, it drives everything around it away: traffic, pedestrians, solitude, joy… and now, even cancer.”

Government officials have been quick to applaud the study and highlight their immediate dedication to applying its findings. Within minutes of the announcement, Efrain Rios Montt spoke to the longstanding commitment of his FRG party to redirect major, high-volume roadways away from affluent communities and through impoverished neighborhoods with overcrowded hospitals.

In a televised address, Rios Montt proclaimed, “let us capitalize on these results and finally concentrate 100% of traffic, and the life-saving cacophony that accompanies it, where it rightly belongs: with the long-suffering poor. Viva Guatemala!”

Rios Montt and other high-level officials have also been eagerly anticipating the projected findings from a separate study correlating proximity to landfills with longer lifespan.

Central America from 14,000 ft

So, 2 weekends ago I went on a hike with Quetzal Trekkers - http://www.quetzaltrekkers.com/guathome.html. They're an all volunteer crew that leads hikes around Guatemala. They may not get money, but I think they rather enjoy punishing out of shape tourists up and down the many mountainsides of Guatemala. And so it goes. We made it up Tajumulco Saturday night in time to catch the sun dip into a sea of clouds far into the West, and arose early enough to climb the last 200m to the peak and share the first minutes of the morning with the same firey ball of gas as the night before. I guess we shouldn´t have had beans for dinner AND breakfast, eh?

It was truly a beautiful exerience to look up and down an entire range of mountains and volcanoes, into Mexico, and the depths of Guatemala. The clouds wrapped around the slopes of each volcanic formation like a down blanket, and our long line of international hikers zig zagged our way through them like a sure line of thread.

Nothing says love like smashing an egg on someones head

Wednesday came and went as another reminder of a love or a lack thereof. Wasn't it nice in gradeschool when everyone got a valentine card, and some stale candy hearts with words on them, and the big deal was who hand selected which words for whom? Then, somewhere around 5th grade we abondoned the 'make everyone fit in' method, and went right in for the kill - flowers, chocolates, poetry, dating (Sorry, no personal gems this time, just the generics). What I want to know is - why the switch? There has to be a grown up version of our elementary school antics, right? Well, I think I've found it here. It may not be love, but it sure is fun.

Imagine going about your business, a little more aware than usual because of the day of course, when suddenly it is raining sparkles and confetti in front of your eyes. You've been 'cascaroned'! Someone, could be your neighbor, could be your lover, could be your friend, has just crushed a hollowed out egg full of confetti on your head. Feliz Dia de Cariña! Needless to say, everyone is a little shinier this time of the year. This, however, is the G-rated version. Tuesday marks carnival, and the word is everyone has lisence to go crazy. I've been advised to keep my eyes open in the streets because it's typical to get pelted with real eggs, flour, and water, and as much as I try to fit in, in reality I'm probably a pretty good target.

Hope everyone had a good one! And if not, I'll bring back some cascarones for you.

Habia una vez, I was once a slow walker, taking the time to look up and down at my surroundings and not get anywhere too fast. Two weeks in Xela, and contrary to almost everything else about the place, I am now a furious pacer. It may be because I have been incredibly busy or because every white knuckled 'Chapine' behind an extra tinted windshield is tryint to kill me. I'm certain of it.

I also still can't believe how wrong I was about the weather, like Jordan playing baseball. I can see my breath every morning when I slip out around 7:45, and it warms up quite nicely throughout the day, but I'm still not ambitious enough to give the shorts and flip flops another go-around until I'm certaom pf sweating at the mere sight of the sun.

The hot springs were an ideal destination, settled in a lush mountainside an hour outside of Xela. The sulfur oxidized water trickles down the warm rocks into three natural pools, each of which proved capable of transforming me into a rare breed of giant white prune. We hiked around a bit, but mostly just relaxed in the 7,500 ft high pools looking out over a luscious valley that had once housed one of the worlds oldest and most advanced civilizations.

I also recently had the chance to feel the heartbeat of Xela, pulsating with every vulgar word, hand clap, and foot stomp. Oh yes, I'm talking about the futbol game. The XelaJu (SHAY-LA-WHOO) Super Chivos took on the currently first place, inter-country rival, Jalapa this past Saturday. The conditions were ripe for an upset...packed stadium, home field, and as the gerat equalizer Mother Nature decided to unleash the first rain of the year on an unsuspecting audience. Needless to say, no one left, there was merely a short scramble for all scaps of plastic capable of redirecting a few unwelcome raindrops. And the band played on, literraly. Directly behind me were the musical ringleaders, conducting each anthem and chant with unwaving dedication. The bass, snare, and trumpet plasted away, and to some disappointment, the game ended in a 1-1 tie. Alas.

Another day, another workout

Before I arrived, I was planning on finishing each week of classes with an intellectual escape to the surrounding mountains for the weekends. Little did I know, I would be climbing a cobblestone mountain multiple times a day just to get around in Xela. Therefore, my calves are adjusted and prepared for a trip to 'Las Georginas' hot springs tomorrow morning.

The classes are going really well. I'm remembering things that I don't think I knew to begin with. I spend 5 hours or more a day with my teacher, Byron, who is also 24, and we have become good friends. Apparently, he and Flory, who runs the school, are under the impression that I am at an advanced level of Spanish so I have been asked to complete a thesis in the next 3 weeks. For those of you that know Spanish and have read the last few entries, are probably laughing because two of the four or so words not in English are spelled wrong - cerveceria and Mam. I haven't completely finalized my topic yet, but it is going to be something along the lines of 'sustainable development and the impact of a sharp rise in tourism, with respect to the different populations of Guatemala.' It is supposed to be 25 pages and a presentation to the staff and students of the school, so we'll see what happens.

This school also does a great job of connecting interested students with volunteer work in the area, whatever type you may be interested in. I, believe it or not, and even though I just ended the last sentence with 'in', am teaching English to a group of kids from the neighborhood. Most of them are related, full of energy, and whenever I ask them to pick a theme for the day it is usually futbol, which is fine by me. Also, as I learned today, the person that was helping with these classes before me was a police officer from Norway. Apparently, he was about 6'5", very muscular, and got the kids hooked on the 'helicoptero', which I have a feeling is a bit more taxing for me and aided in a profound siesta yesterday (You know, pick the kids up over your head and spin around until your both so dizzy you could fall over). And no matter what anyone says, spinning the other way does not balance out the feeling.

Last night (Thursday), in my first communal soccer experience, Guatemala beat Nicaragua on nuetral ground in San Salvador. I watched the first half in a little neighborhood bar with the local crazies, and the second half at home with the family. It was good times, and almost as exciting as Spain beating the pants off of England at the same time! Que fuerte! I can't wait to see what players the kids want to emulate on Monday when we play in the backyard of the school. I am usually the goalie, Casillas of course.

As soon as I figure out how to put photos on here, you'll see them. Hasta pronto.

A conversation with Maria Tulia

Recently, I had the privilege of talking to Maria Tulia about the reality of life for Guatemala's indigenous population. They are far and away the majority, but like many minority controlled countries, receive far less services in respect to schools, transportation, and the like. Throughout recent history, their languages, traditional dress, and cultural practices have been discouraged by most established institutions.

As per her own experiences as a Mayan woman living in Guatemala her entire life, when Mayan children have occasion to leave their small farming communities they are programmed from a very young age to be ashamed of their skin, hair, clothes, and language. Sometimes it is overt - denial of entry to a restaurant or nightclub. More often it is subtle - backhanded references to their lifestyle as ignorant or backwards.

Maria has recently finished her thesis on the psychological effects of discrimination and racism on Mayan women in Guatemala. She focused on her life as a child in an indigenous (Mum) village, and her 18 years as a guerilla in the Civil War, where she states to me very succinctly that she obtained her real education (often times girls stop school at a very young age and even with schooling the history of 'her' Guatemala had been systematically removed from the curriculum).

She spoke to me of a Mayan history that I learned in school as a child - one with great scientific achievements, vibrant arts, and amazing music. But this, suprisingly, was not the Mayan history taught in schools 30/40 years ago, in their own backyard nonetheless.

Enter 30+ years of painful and divisive civil war between the indigenous guerillas, their allies, and the Guatemalan Army. In short, 1996 brought the 'Acuerdos de Paz' and an end to the violence. When I asked her what was the most important thing to take from this fight for equality and respect, she said it is the power of a 'public discussion' because without an issue out in the open certain people can still deny its existence. And we can't give them the opportunity.

2 planes, 1 taxi, and a bus

After all that, Im finally at a median temperature of 75 degrees. The flights, as expected, I spent nestled up against the window with an airline pillow and blanket. My first opportnity for error was choosing the correct taxi to take me to the bus station, but when I saw it I knew it was fate - a direct ray of sunlight radiated off the dome of the car and enclosed it in a forcefield of all things good with the world - it was a '97 Escort wagon. I was feeling spiritual so I figured it was the reincarnation of the seafoam green monster that once made the famed Monroe/Ann Arbor/Detroit triangle more times than I care to remember.

It, and the driver of course, got me safely to the bus that would take me to Xela (SHAY-LA). I dropped my bags, changed my clothes, and found the first 'Cerverceria' I could for a glass of Guatemala's finest lager, Gallo. And for about a dollar a bottle, it's well within the budget.

The route from the capital to Xela is far from a straight shot, but as we passed many signs of an alive countryside I became a bit more anxious. Dirt patch soccer games commenced wherever there was space, faded Coca Cola and orange Crush signs were far more common than mile-markers, and when an appropriate darkness set in on the bus, the little girl in the seat in front of me started throwing little pieces of paper at me.

Xela, in the light of day, is completely surrounded by beautiful mountains, the first of which I'll hopefully be visiting this weekend. The family I am staying with is extremely generous and very nice. When I told them I was vegetarian, in what I feel is a somewhat typical response in this part of the world, my host mother replied (in spanish), "So you eat ham?" "No, no meat", I said, only to be followed by, "You eat chicken?" I admired her persistence.

More later.