Importance of Culture

“In Guatemala, we have customs and they are very important. We do things a certain way.”

Those wise words were spoken by my host mom the other night when I offered to help clean up the mess from our full family operation of making paper balloons with pictures of the kids from the preschool (which is a whole other story of deilghtfulness…). It was 9:30pm, the bedtime of most Guatemalans, and there was paper ALL OVER the floor of the kitchen. Not to mention the glue all over the table serving of evidence of my over-exuberant use of the glue stick. I offered to help clean up – it seemed like the sensible thing to do and my bedtime just has not managed to adjust to the Guatemalan time zone (aka 10 or 11…) so I had time. Rosa responded, “you don’t clean at night – night is for rest, not work”. When I looked confused, Rosa said her wise words about customs. And, since that conversation, I have spent a lot of time observing and contemplating customs.

There is the custom of rain. When it’s “demasiado lluvia” or “hace frio” (too much rain or too cold), the world pretty much stops. It’s been a pretty wet week this week and consequently, the preschool has had only 14 out of the 24 kids appear at the door in the morning. It is widely believed that if you get wet, you’ll get sick, and in a land without health insurance or disposable incomes, being sick is not a good thing.

There’s also the custom of fiestas and “dia de…”. You may recall the blog about Dia De Indepencia. Well, today was another dia… “Dia de los Niños”. It is a day that is devoted to celebrating kids and allowing them to celebrate. The preschool went to Pollo Compero in Antigua because it is the closest playground and they played and had lunch. They returned for piñatas at house and cake and toys. We also had a fiesta at our language school and I learned some customs and rules about piñatas as we destroyed the bee.

Rule 1: There are 2-3 lines required. The long one on top is best when it can be slippery so the piñata can easily slide across. All my ideas for lines this morning were not good enough because a) they were not safe or b) they provided too much friction. The result was a spool of electrical wire.

Rule 2: When there are no kids involved, everyone, without any limitations of age or ability, is fair game for being chanted into smashing the piñata

 

Rule 3: All people smashing the piñata will inevitably look silly so you may as well embrace it.

 Rule 4: When there are no kids involved, the adults who grew up grabbing candy are really good at getting it. I think us students collectively got as much candy as any given professor.
Rule 5: When the piñata won’t break, smash it without a blindfold. When that doesn’t work, just tear it up with your hands.

Another custom I love is the importance of family. There is little to no concept of postal mail and very little internet access. The Antigua post office only has 400ish mailboxes. Totally crazy! (This custom may mean that few people receive Christmas presents on time this year…) Most people seem extremely content with their family and live very close by. I live with a 15yo girl and 11yo boy and tonight we played Uno for 3 hours with random dance parties interspersed in the game. They seemed totally happy and content with family night… it was pretty cool.

Finally, there are a ton of indigenous customs that we had the opportunity to observe Thursday. We went to San (insert a saint’s name that I just forgot here) Aguas Calientes for a presentation of customs by some delightful women. They showed us how people made backpacks, baby carriers, basket holders for your head, and many other things out of a blanket. They even let us try!

 Then, they told us about the customs of the blankets – if you have a striped/plainish blanket (I think I’m using the blanket word very loosely… it’s much fancier) and it’s taken from you, that guy will be your husband. For the wedding, it is necessary to make a blanket for the future mother-in-law. These blankets are gorgeous and take 6+ months to make or 6000Q to buy (that’s a lot). If mama don’t like it, the wedding’s off.

We got to see them grind coffee…

Make cool things out of reeds (that’s my new goal for the year…)…

Weave…

And then there was a mock wedding where Tina got to marry a European guy.

Finally, we made tortillas, had some soup and some coffee, and perused their work.

After seeing all the work these women/the indigenous people/this culture originally puts into daily tasks, I understand why it’s necessary to keep nights sacred and away from work. Maybe that’s not a bad idea for us either…

The Umbrella

I did it.


It’s shameful, but I did it.

I bought an umbrella.

I’m not sure if it’s universal, generational, within my group of friends, or just in my head, but I have always thought that umbrellas as a sign of weakness…. Maybe not weakness, but a means of not fully embracing who I am… someone from western Washington who, up until my move to Walla Walla, had seen more days of rain than sun in my lifetime. The only other umbrella I have other had in my possession was an umbrella that was in my car when I absorbed it in high school. That umbrella was left in my trunk by my mom, and like the iron and ironing board left by Doug and Shan in the basement in the Juniper house, it was left in its original place, in its original wrapping.

But then, I came to Guatemala during the rainy season. And rain here is different. Harder… more vengeful… and has greater effects when you’re reliant on chicken busses and your own feet to get around town and the villages. Being wet and then getting into your car and testing the defrost’s strength is a luxury not available here. So, I have purchased an umbrella. Not only that, I purchased a cute, light green umbrella with stars (if you’re going to fall into the realm of shame, you may as well do it with style). I do refer to it as the umbrella of shame, but I bought it. And I admitted it to my fellow northwesterner, Elizabeth, when she visited this week, so I feel rather accomplished. And once/if I actually post this blog, I’ll feel even more accomplished.

As I’ve been thinking about the identity shift that has gone into this umbrella purchase, I have begun to think about the other shifts of identity/who I am. The things that Guatemala has done to me, in only a matter of a month. One of the most prominent of these things is that I’m less busy. Tonight, I came home at 6, after a fun ride on the steps of the camioneta (chicken bus…) (another check on the things that would get you arrested in the US) and I went with my host brother and mom to deliver food to a friends’ house, racing my host brother up the mountain. My mom really likes to take care of people and makes extra food for lots and lots of people. I counted today and I think she feeds at least 60 mouths a day… I told her that and she just laughed, like its no big deal… for a girl who can’t cook a quesadilla on the stove, that’s a HUGE DEAL!

Anyway, I have digressed… after we went to their house, my host brother found two balloons and told me that he could keep them in the air for a really long time. We proceeded to have a competition between him, the sister, and me seeing who could keep them in the air the longest. The mom even came and made a guest appearance! As we were playing, I thought back to my life from birth until May 2010 and I can’t really remember any time that I have come home early, before dinner, and had time to just hang out and chill, trying to keep balloons in the air as they bounce off the tin roof. I would feel panicky… “maybe I should swim, I have to have more homework to do, what to do list can I make for tomorrow? Can I check something off now? Maybe I have time to get a bike ride in before dinner… oh wait, I still don’t know how to take the time to learn how to cook…” and so forth… My lack of panic, and increase in joy continued after dinner as we played Uno and had mom, kids, and random gringo dance parties and laughing attacks for almost four hours. I even forgot I had to pack… and that was written on four different to-do lists!

Well, I’ve embraced the shame of having an umbrella, dropped the panic of having freetime… maybe next will be ditching the lists… maybe not though… it’s only been a month, I think Guatemala has much more in store for me. More than I can predict or write down on a list.

To be a child...

Sidenote:  I was just about to cut and paste the text of this blog into blogger while listening to my ipod on shuffle and "Jesus to the Rescue" came on... I almost cried... I miss those WW kids!   But, it's a good segeway into this blog!  KIDS!

To be a child.  I think I’m learning how again this week. 

I talk like a child… or an adult that is always discussing things in the way of Taboo/Catch Phrase (such as shaving = erasing the hair on your face).  I like to think that I talk like a child.  It sounds more fun.  And, by talking like a child, it means that I learn like a child.  That’s why I made a lot of flashcards, with the help of Laura the kindergarten teacher, and with the help of my whole host family who joined me as we sat down at the kitchen table with children's textbooks from the 80s and pointed at pictures saying, "tu sabes?"  "tu quieres?" (you know? you want?).  Then, the mom and sister would cut the picture out and I would glue it to a flash card and the going deaf dad and sister would help me spell the word on the flashcard (which was challenging since I don't have a grip on the Spanish alphabet).   I think that learning in the ways of a child is one of the best things.  Ever.

I really like kids.  The YAV program has introduced the “Examen” to all of us, and Marcia took it to an additional level by having us read the book, Sleeping with Bread.  I decided to adapt it, merging it with Mara Abbott’s proposition of a Gratitude Journal (one of the best gifts my co-cake chef has ever given me), and every night, I write the things that brought me the most joy and made me feel closest to God as well as the things that did the opposite.  Every single day this week, my greatest joys have had to do with children.  I think I like kids.  I probably could have guessed that before I came to Guatemala, but now I know for sure.

Because I like them, this week has been one of the best weeks as I have lived with a fantastic new host family who have two great kids, ages 11 and 15, as well as a daycare/preschool with 24 of my new best friends, ages 2-7.  They are great kids!   Thursday, I had the opportunity to take pictures of all of them individually and I’m helping them make a birthday board (this was also a great excuse to get pictures of all my new best friends without being a creeper).  

Over the past week, I've been able to teach the kids some things... like Frisbee and Uno and silly hand clapping games with animal noises that I made up and attempted to teach with my limited vocabulary...

I couldn't figure out the word for horizontal, so our frisbee was thrown vertically...

But, the best thing that has happened from this past week is what they have taught me.That kids are different and all are the same.  I haven’t ever met a kid who is the same as another one.  I guess this is true for adults as well, but for some reason, we have the notion that we are obligated to hide our individuality. Kids haven’t caught onto that notion.  I really hope they never do.  Kids are different as individuals, but as a group, they definitely have a collective identity. 

For homework one day, I had an assignment to read and comprehend a page entitled, “Que Es Un Nino”.  (I am on my laptop and therefore don’t know how to type in Spanish on an English keyboard… my apologies!  If you know the shortcuts, tell me!)

Un nino tiene el apetito de un pirana; la energia de la bomba atomica; la curiosidad de un gato; los pulmones de un tenor y la imaginacion de Julio Verne; la timidez de una violeta; la audacia de una trampa de acero y el entusiasmo de un campeon olimpico. Les encata los dulces, las navajas, las sierras, la Navidad, los libros d laminas, el chico de los vecinos, el campo, el agua, los animals grandes; papa, los trenes.  Los domingos por la manana y los carros de bomberos.  Les desagrada las visitas formales, las normas, la escuela, las lecciones de musica, las corbatas, los peluqueros, las ninas, lo abrigos, los adultos y la hora de acorstarse. 

 

If you caught on to any of that, and you’ve ever met a kid, you’ll notice that there are some serious similarities in kids (case in point:  la energia de la bomba atomica… the energy of an atomic bomb).  I’m learning that it doesn’t matter if they speak Spanish, English, both, or neither.  It doesn’t matter if they’re sitting in the poop deck at Discovery Elementary, under a parachute at College Place Presbyterian Church, on a kick board at the Whitman College pool, on a cow in Touchet, or in an all concrete room that appears to once have been a garage with a leaky tin roof… collectively, they are the same.  They all want love, they all love attention, they all desire to show their individualities, they all show love in unique ways and receive it uniquely as well, they all like to play, they all are searching to learn, they’re all loved by God, and, at some level, they all act in the trust and faith that they know it is true. 

We can learn a lot from kids.  I sure did this week.  

The preschool/daycare

Eva reading with the kids... in Spanish!

History, Pain, and Scarves

On Thursday, we met an incredible group of women.  These women, along with others in their organization, make up the organization, "Corazon Scarves" They are a group of Mayan women who suffered in the Guatemalan Civil War that ended in 1996 (after 36 years of warfare). 

These women and their families were a part of the traditional Mayan communities that were tortured, persecuted, and/or destroyed during the war.  One book I read compared this war's attack on the Mayans to the World War II holocaust, to put it in perspective.

After eating lunch with them, we had the opportunity to hear their stories.  One woman told of how they had to live in the mountains in order to save their families and themselves.  She lived in the mountains with her family, hiding from the soldiers, for 2 years, some people she knows were there for 15. They lost family members and friends, and saw horrible things.  Compounded on that, after the war, the Mayan people experienced racism of great levels and the men were unable to attain job (due to the economy, this is often still the case).  Through occupational training and counseling, these women have begun to weave, sew, and make soap, etc to sustain their families and they support one another through this cooperative.  Their stories are incredibly powerful, and their work is gorgeous.

We had an opportunity to look through their work after talking with them and hearing from where they had come.  It was so sad, so recent, and such as depressing state of humanity... I hurt for these women, I didn't know how they functioned.

But then, there were their children.  I don't speak their language, I couldn't really understand their names, but I did understand their joy.  We played soccer, jumping games, the "cinco" game (high 5), and stuck our tongues out making faces.   Suddenly, I had these friends with whom I couldn't communicate verbally, however, we spoke through emotions, and emotions are universal.

I haven't lived their pain, but I believe in their joy.
I don't understand how these people can be resilient, but I believe we can all learn from the next generation's fresh start.
They don't always know where their next meal is coming from or how their children will be educated, but they do know that they can survive.  And, it's our job to help them.

Now, I just have to figure out how.

Dia de Indepencia!

So, I used to think that the 4th of July was cool.

Our celebrations pales in comparison to Guatemala's!

Independence Day is a two day operation here (longer if you live further from Antigua).  My observations of it were, in general, lots of community, lots of traditions, lots of costumes, and lots of loud explosions.  It was great!

The day began on the 14th (Dia de Indepencia is the 15th) with a parade of children walking down the streets of San Juan Del Obisbo (or any other small town, I suppose).  They were in fascinating costumes that I didn't really understand... all black with black cardboard "cars" over their heads, white wedding dresses, large animal costumes... they had it all.  After the parade, everyone went to the central park where it seemed that everyone for miles was gathered and they had music playing from a stereo in the back of a truck as well as from miscellaneous marching bands.

Then, the older schools and private schools (evidently, the president outlawed the public schools due to the economic crisis) ran a torch from their school to Antigua.  This included us.  So, we lit the torch and we went for a 5k run to Antigua.

Teachers came along side on motorcycles handing out water that we couldn't figure out how to open

That night, there was a big festival in the park in San Juan (and once again, I suppose that is true for many other communities).  It included lots of motivational speakers applauding Guatemala as a country as they simultaneously pointed out the injustices and encouraged those to be remedied, the national anthems (it seems like there are more than one here), school groups performing, and numerous other events.  This fiesta went way past my Guatemala bedtime (approx 9pm)... which is quite impressive.

This crepe paper balloon had a candle go inside it and floated in the air drifting in the wind in the atmosphere.  The only downside was the one attempt where the balloon burst into flames only 30 ft above everyone and little fireballs fell down very close to Andrew...  yet another thing probably not allowed in the US

Lots of people in the evening festivities...

In the morning of the actual holiday, they had a parade in Antigua (which I missed because of my trip to Pacaya) and numerous activities and lots of energy throughout the town of Antigua.  One of my favorite things was the mime... he was performing in the middle of the street, and within no time, there were loads of people surrounding him and blocking the street... the best part: no one cared!   I love the community feeling around here...