Reflections on Semana Santa

I remember the first time I saw beauty for the first time that I could fully acknowledge it.  Yes, I was blessed enough to grow up in a beautiful state, in a house sitting on a bluff with an amazing view, and with a family who had the means and appreciation of nature to access and see other views as we travelled around the state and country, but sometimes you take those things that you see everyday for granted.  Or maybe it was that I was too young and immature to grasp the fact that the world is bigger than me and the beauty that comes with its grandioseness.  Whatever the reason was, I distinctly remember the sunrise on top of Mt Heart Attack at JH Ranch that Tuesday morning the summer after my freshman year in college.  It was mind-blowing and I couldn’t really articulate my wonder of my revelation that the world is beautiful and so incredibly large.

A similar thing happened this year at Semana Santa.  After that morning at JH, I have spent an incredible amount of time in my happy place – the outdoors – because the beauty there surrounding me makes me remember how small my problems are and how beautiful God is in His huge, holy, sanctified, and sovereign way.  I have spent so much time marveling at the beauty of the outdoors that I had on blinders to the extent of the beauty of tradition and people. 

Those blinders were taken off during Semana Santa, and the beauty of this holiday and the country’s traditions surrounding it have completely blown me away.  I can’t even begin to explain it all in writing to the extent that I would like; there is just so much!  And, furthermore, I know that my experiences are only the tip of the iceberg of beauty and tradition. I’ll attempt to explain the amazingness by separating it by each special day:

Weeks before - Antigua had so many processions.  Every Friday every Catholic church has a procession.  The churches take turns having an afombra (that is absolutely gorgeous!) and a gorgeous display of a scene from a part of the Bible.  Pictured here is the Prodigal Son; my favorite Bible story.  Amazing. 

Palm SundayHaving been my favorite holiday since I was wee, I was quite excited for Palm Sunday.  We (the YAV volunteers) were in Santiago at Lago Atitlan and heard from our random guide the day before that there was going to be a procession at 10.  Thinking we understood Guatemalan time, we went into town at 10:30 to discover that we missed the procession.  We did, however, follow the evidence of the procession (flowers and sawdust) through the ridiculously crowded market and up to the church.  The church service was outside and the courtyard was PACKED!.  The priest and altar children were on a stage framed in bamboo.  To the left there was a marimba band with a choir of women who sang in excellent Guatemalan style.  There were a handful of benches in front of the stage, and then everyone else was scattered around the park on statues, standing, in the shade of the buildings, sitting on the ground.  It was so powerful and beautiful to be surrounded by that many passionate people.  Men and women in full traditional clothing held their cowboy hats and clothes above their head for shade as children ran around adding life to the beautiful spread of colors. People had palms in their hands, the cross on the stage was made of palms, it was Palm Sunday at its finest.  That Sunday marked the kickoff to the most important week in their tradition and the excitement was palpable. 

 
The night before Maundy Thursday 
 I put myself out for foster care/adoption during Semana Santa because I wanted to learn the traditions from a family’s, not a tourist’s, point of view.  Tina’s family took me in so after Tina, Malea, Kyra and I spent additional days at the Lake after our YAV retreat, Tina and I went to her house (this was Wednesday). 

Her family mentioned that they were going to be building an arch and an afombra (carpet thing)… they failed to mention that they were the starting point for the procession that day and that they were expecting 75 people for lunch before the procession started the next day.  Wednesday night was marked with a lot of late night projects.  Tina and I pulled apart, peeled, or tore a fair number of vegetables… most of which I have never seen before. The women cut carrots like crazy and prepared 10 live chickens worth of meat.   

When the men came back from “the costa” (aka the warm lowlands), they had a bunch of palm branches and tropical fruits and began assembling an arch outside made out of bamboo and their coastal finds.   With some harrowing maneuvers with a ladder strapped together and a group of friends holding the poor chap who is on the ladder up, the giant arch was assembled. 

Then, in the middle of all this, some “Judios” (Jews) came running down the street.  They were a pack of guys who I guess go door to door every Wednesday night of Semana Santa asking for food and drinks.  We threw candy and bananas at them… it was hilarious.  And only the beginning of the randomness.

 
Maundy Thursday
The random actions continued.  I got up in the morning, anxious to see if the “sketchily?” hung arch was still in the air.  It was and looked almost secure.  Quite impressive.  Then, as I made my way to go back inside, a random guy in costume came riding on his horse past the house.  I looked at Tina’s dad confusedly, “Centurion” he replied.  Of course.    After the centurion, we went inside to continue the kitchen preparations.  Then, we heard a lot of sirens and stuff… looking out the door, there was no less than a running race!  Huh?!?!  That’s in the Bible?  It was led and followed by ambulances (hence the sirens).  No one could really answer my questions about that activity.  It’s okay… I like having questions.

As the 1:00 time marker for the procession neared, we began building the family’s afombra.  It was fun to be a part of it!  We made a natural one from pine needles, sticky plant things, and a lot of flowers.  It was really fun and gorgeous.

As 1:00 official time came and 1:00 Guatemala time approached, the marching band appeared as well as many dedicated people who were instrumental in the procession.  Some were working on the shrines while others were deeply in prayer to them. 

As the band was playing (practicing?), a group of Roman soldiers appeared, walking down the road in full costume.  They paid their tribute to Jesus and then began reinacting the first stage of the cross: Jesus being condemned. Then, the soldiers led the procession followed by a large float of an angel, a large float of Jesus, the marching band, a large float of Mary, and all of us dressed in traditional clothing followed by a pickup with a giant old school sound system.  

 Along the way, we walked (painfully) slow and stopped every 100 meters or so to have another station being played out.  People came on horses, at one point, Judas and Jesus and the disciples came and acted out the betrayal,... it was really cool (in the sad, holy week way).  After 2 or so hours, we got to the church where they had a service for Maunday Thursday.  The priest led the service and they reenacted the washing of the disciples feet as well as the last supper.  After the service, we went outside and they began reenacting court with Herod and Pilate and all the disciples and soldiers.  It was a super powerful 6 hour long church service/festivities.

 

 

Good Friday 

Called Viernes Santo, it’s quite possibly the biggest holiday all year.  The busses were not running (this is shocking) and so everyone, unless they have a car, stays where they’re at.  We had a lazy, cleaning morning recovering from the day before.  Then, just when we thought we were going to be at the house all day, Tina’s parents said, “there’s something really beautiful in the “Pueblo”.  So, we jumped in the truck and crossed the highway to Cantel. 

There, the Judios and Centurions were having a battle.  It involved them running around the blocks at times, horses, lots of young men, and of course, amazing costumes.  It seemed like everyone from Cantel was out… people sitting on partially constructed buildings,  standing on stools, and doing whatever they could to watch this hour+ long battle.  I ran into my future host mom (later blog) and she said her son was on a horse.  She was nervous for very good reasons.  The horses eventually started going crazy and bucked off a centurion as well as kicked a Jew.  Eventually the Jews won.  There was an announcer but I couldn’t understand him… I’m not sure if anyone could with all the noise and the quality of the old school sound system.  So, overall, it was a bit whacky.  But I like whacky.  And I like energy.

 After the battle, there was a church service and a procession, but we skipped those to go home and have a tasty lunch.  That night, we went back to Pueblo to pick up the grandma (who did go to church) and they were having yet another procession.  We all jumped in the truck and went to another neighboring town: Salcaja.  Salcaja is known for its art and Good Friday definitely helps them keep that reputation.  It was amazing there.  The closest thing I can compare it to is going to the really ritzy neighborhoods for Christmas Eve Christmas lights, but even that pales in comparison.  They were having a night procession/vigil and the afombras were gorgeous and creative! 

Using the medium of ice cream cones and a bit of potted grass

Sawdust with footprints!

Hand "painted" sawdust of Jesus giving a hug

This entire one was made out of fruits and veggies

And the fountain worked!

  Then there was the procession itself – short but powerful.  It started with the poor soul who pushed the generator that was on less than efficient wheels.  After him were cross and candle carrying people and men dressed in black on the sides also carrying candles as well as incense.  Then, there was the (lit) float of Jesus in a casket and angels.  Then came the choir and band (same one from Thursday), and then Mary on another float, also lit (and bearing another poor soul pushing a generator).  Following Mary was all the women.  Watching this go by was sobering and gorgeous and inspirational.  It, as well as the afombras that were destroyed by it, showed me the beauty of humanity and traditions; wow.

Sabado de Gloria
Saturday has a great tradition that I have never thought of: everyone goes to the pool!  Or the coast!  Or somewhere really nice.  We went to the pool in la costa.  I swear that everyone and their grandmother was there (we were included in that)… including at least one of my students who had the pleasure of watching me sit in a gross, child-filled thermal pool (therefore the temperature of taking a bath in pee) in my clothes because this “let’s go to pool for Easter” tradition was not communicated to me earlier.  It was really fun though; an interesting contrast to the day before.

Easter itself

Not quite as big of a deal.  I went back to the city Saturday night with the hopes of going to English-speaking church Sunday morning.  Kyra and I didn’t check service times… woops… so we then just walked around the city.  With the exception of a few small processions and fairly crowded churches, not much was different from the normal day, but it was still gorgeous.

Overall, this past Semana Santa has been gorgeous.  Absolutely amazing.

I’m speechless.  

And have been incredibly inspired by all the prayer.

More pictures can be found at www.picasaweb.google.com/curleske

Happy Santa Semana!

Hello everyone!
I'm entering the world of Liberation Theology classes, YAV retreat, and then Semana Santa trips to the Lake and Antigua to see the beauty of this holiday!  
Praying that Palm Sunday (my favorite holiday of the year)/Maundy Thursday/Good Friday/Easter/End of Lent treat you all well!

Katharine

Daily Life Blog Post - Piscinas!

This is one of many (hopefully) editions featuring aspects of daily life here in Guatemala... in writing these, I hope to share funny things, ironic things, and things I admire and I want to share them not as a form of judgment... in ANY way... but in a form of telling a story... with that being said...  here's information about pools!

I like pools.  And swimming.  So much. 

Ever since college, I have intentionally surrounded myself by people who have the scent of chlorine whether this be through teaching lessons, coaching, or just inviting my friends in Guatemala to join me at the waterpark for my birthday (and then subsequently getting too sick to get out of bed so rescheduling it for next weekend... )= ).  I definitely have missed the team aspect, though.  There's something to be said for having a person tell you what to do in the water and having other people to join you in the yardage endeavor.

I never thought I would find a swim team in Guatemala, but evidently, I have.  Quetzaltenango has the, what I understand to be, Guatemalan equivalent of the Olympic Training Center, and I have befriended the pool and triathlon coach.  (Although YAV doesn't want me to do a triathlon because the drivers are wacky (read the other daily life blogs for more information on that), so I'm just swimming with them...)... justified reasons that I'm okay with).

It's a really impressive pool measuring at 25m with eight good-sized lanes and an almost constant 4.5ishft depth (probably shouldn't be any deeper knowing the height and skill level of many people in this country).  There's a laminate roof so you roughly know what the weather is like outside, serving a function similar to the windows at Whitman.  However, it has more than just the windows to make you feel like you're swimming outside; the laminate makes enough space for them to come in and make the pool their humble abode.  Not being from a land flourishing with outdoor pools, this is the first time I've been able to birdwatch during a kickset. 

Then, there's the coach.  Mario and I seem to get along pretty well.  We have a bit of a language barrier, and I'm pretty sure that at times he thinks I'm a complete idiot because I do things like stop in the middle of the pool during a sprint set because I hear him say, "Lista, Para!" (Ready, Stop!) and can't get my adrenaline to stop until I'm already committed to looking stupid.  Evidently, he sends people off using the words, "Lista, Afuera" (Ready, Out!)  That makes more sense.  We have it figured out now.  Then, there's explaining things like how far.  Unfortunately, 50 and 500 sometimes sound similar when people are talking really really fast and I have water in my ears.  But, all in all, my athletic vocabulary is growing and I really appreciate the opportunity to work with him.

Finally, there's the team.  Swimming with a team is awesome!  (To all those who I have coached in the past or who are swimming now, don't take it for granted).  We're small enough where we can all split the lanes and swim shoulder to shoulder pushing each other (until I mishear 50 for 500 and find myself stuck by myself after stopping at the wall).  They are pretty forgiving for my Spanish and, although we don't talk a ton (we are swimming afterall) and I don't know any of their names and I can only come late on Wednesdays and sometimes Mondays because of my silly work schedule, it's fun to practice with them. 

Finally, there are the schools that have PE at the same time we swim.  SO FUNNY!  It's a gaggle of girls.  Girls are the same in ever culture; scared of being seen in a swimsuit, not a fan of cold water, and scared of putting their heads under the water.  Much of swim class for them is spent clinging onto the laneline for dear life (while standing up) and having their nose touch the water.  It's fun to watch them... =)

To retain whatever appearance of not being totally strange that I have, I have abstained from taking pictures of the beautiful piscina, so my apologies... however, thanks for joining me on the legend of my pool adventures! 

Reflections from my window

If you're a normal reader of my blog, you are probably surprised to see this many posts in a week.  That's because my bed and I have become way too good of friends, and being the social person that I am, I have resorted to job searching/applying, reading, and starring out my window wishing that I had enough energy to make it down the stairs and back up them again.  But alas, I don't, so I'll just have to share with you what I see from my window.
(and yes... these photos aren't the greatest.  I didn't even edit them because I'm already 100 points behind on the pretty scale with the panes being dirty... my apologies)

Let's start with a geography lesson:

 First of all, by my window.  That's my bed.  Well, actually, it's a boxspring with a egg foam mattress on it and it usually has sheets (I promise, all the moms in my life), but they are being washed right now.   But that's my bed.  On the left, the liberation theology things that I SHOULD be reading.  On the right, my laptop with Malea's magical Tigo Internet Stick that I am using to apply for jobs.  Behind my highly attractive pillows?  MY WATER BOTTLE!  Exciting!  I've been looking for that all day!

Now... to the outside world.  First we have looking up, because if you don't look up, you really are missing out on 99% of the world... do you realize how often we miss out on the world?

Anyways, up is the sky.  Every afternoon it's a bit cloudy (Come on body... why didn't we get sick during rainy season, not before!) 

There's also a cell or radio tower... it's a great marker to find our apartment from the tops of mountains.

To the left, we have some apartments and a yellow and black sign that squeaks in the wind.  See that strange fabric on the connection closest to the apartment?  Those are Andrew's (as in Becca and Andrew) jeans... it was a sacrifice for a good cause that needs to be repeated. 

To the right, is a clearer view of the street, an intersection, and a tienda.  That tienda ocassionally produces some entertaining characters so I try to keep an eye to the right as I'm pretending that the sign on my left side doesn't exist.










Then, there's the things that are directly in front of my window.  They are what fascinate me the most. 

There's the strange car floor paneling store.  How they make business in one of the poorer neighborhoods in town really baffles me... like who would buy a colored floor panel for their car when their kids can't eat? 

Then, there's the ice cream vendor store that sells ice cream to people who sell ice cream.  There's always a fun bunch coming and going from there.

A short bus in for some fixin'

And... the Pinchazo, tire fixing company, that is owned by a family at my school.  I know that this family doesn't make a lot of money... their child is in desperate need of glasses at school and they either don't have the time or money to get him some... but they certainly do have a great deal of business, and the kids are adorable!  My student is a first grader, and hands down the smallest first grader I've ever met in my life.  His sister is smaller and younger and wears traditional clothing (which makes her even cuter).  They live above the shop and their daddy's workplace is their playground.  They are constantly running outside back and forth between neighboring shops.  Never mind that they live on one of the busiest roads in Xela and definitely on the loudest (since it's the road all the buses drive down to get to the terminal and buses sure like their horns!) - it's their home and they play like kids in their home.  

They also work in the home and take care of it.  Every night, my student is out there sweeping, with a broom bigger than him, the shop.  In the morning, before his first clients come, his dad is sweeping the sidewalk.  When you live in a dirty country in a dirty city on a dirty road, it's really remarkable to see people cleaning the sidewalks in front of their businesses; it makes me want to go there!  (I'm serious on that one).

Finally, the pinchazo makes me think.  What would it be like to change tires for a living if you don't own a car?  If you have never driven one?  Cars definitely symbolize class here: the haves and the have nots.  These people are the have nots - every single person they serve is inherently a have.  What do each party think of that?  Do they realize the disparities?  Do they feel judged? 

Then, my thoughts go to the next logical place.  How often am I in that boat?  How often am I the have not serving the have?  (if you ignore language abilities and claims, the answer is probably almost never).  How often am I the have being served?  (A whole lot!)  Do I notice? Do I judge?  What do they think?  Am I someone who cares or a dollar sign/big Q (depending on currency)? 


Then, when my head hurts and I finish journaling about these really important questions, my gaze returns to the window.  To the cars that go by. 

From the large, decorated buses that say, "I'm not in the US so I don't need to follow any of those silly transportation guidelines!  Watch me put people in and on top and things everywhere so I'm bursting at the seams"

To the motorcycles that say, "Well, see that bus?  If they don't have to follow rules, we won't either.  So, we'll take this nice lady's banana leaves (that are larger than many of my students that were strapped to her back and use the blanket to strap them to the back of the motorcycle, and we'll just drive away.  I'll even wear a helmet to pretend I respect rules"





 I hope to be 100% by tomorrow (I really want to teach, and more importantly to have the kids hear what I say when I teach!)... it's been a week of feeling less than great, with four of those days feeling like a diesel filled bus has stopped on top of me and is filling my lungs with black smoke while taking all my energy out, so I think I've paid my dues.  But, considering the medicine the doctor gave me is to treat malaria and acne, we'll see about that...
You all may have another reflections post coming soon!

Nora came to visit!!!!!!!

Last week, Nora came to visit!  

We had such a blast... it was amazing timing and I never cease to have fun when I'm traveling with her.

We did the La Muella hike, quickly becoming my favorite hike around Xela:

 And followed that adventure with a stop at the Los Vahos steam baths on the way down (I quote another school volunteer as explaining Los Vahos as a trip to Hell because it's so hot)

 Then, we strolled down a darling path back to the city.

 She got to see my street and my house (I wrote My House Is Here by where it is)

 And we saw lots of pretty churches decked out for Lent

 And people in Zunil selling their produce to take to the Xela market

 Volcanically heated hot baths....

 Lent processions in both San Juan La Laguna and Antigua

 Boat rides and adventures to San Marcos La Laguna

 Swimming in the lake!

 Watching a cat eat the remains of our Fish Taco skeleton... and embarking on other food adventures

 Ziplining in Panajachel

 All in all, an amazing time... 

Thanks so much for visiting, Nora!