August 13th, 2008
So, I finally left Guatemela yesterday on the King Quality Bus Line. Its a pretty nice bus line, with plenty of leg room and some coffee and food service - sort of like a plane only a little more comfy. We got to El Salvador around 9 o clock and stayed the night at a hotel in San Salvador. We then left at 3:30 in the morning (!) for what should have been a midnight arrival, but didn´t actually get into San Jose, Costa Rica until 1:30. Keep in mind that includes passage through El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, and half of Costa Rica. But still, it was a long and tiring day. However, when else can I watch Jumper, The Marine and Firehouse Dog all in the same day, all in Spanish?! Oy.
One interesting thing on the bus was talking to some Ticos about how different Guatemalan and Costa Rican Spanish are. This should be an interesting adjustment. I´m too tired to remember any examples now, but next time.
I´ll be filling in the blog soon with pictures and stories from the dopcumentary I helped make back in Momostenango, Guatemala and about what the next couple of months look like. Hope all is well.
July 17th, 2008
Three days ago I began traveling to a small Guatemalan Highland town calledMomostenango, about 1.5 hours outside of Xela, to help my friend Robin Blotnick film a documentary about both the traditional folkloric dances and the more modern Disfraz dances preformed in this town every year as part of their Feria, or annual fair.
Momos, as the town is called by Guatemalans, is in the mountains above Xela, along a beautiful road which passes first through a town called San Francisco El Alto and afterwards through a green, dry forest. The layout resembles that of many Guatemalan villages, namely a collection of adobe and (more predominantly) cinder block homes and businesses, centering upon a church, plaza and central mercado. The people are probably 95% of indigenous Mayan descent, if not more. Quiche seems to be spoken by everyone, with Spanish as a second language. Momos is a traditional Mayan town in the sense that it adheres to the 260 day Mayan Calendar and has altars spread out throughout the town in which ceremonies can be performed, including in the central plaza.
The town is very much NOT touristy, with no real restaurants, only the Guatemalan comedor, more or less akin to a U.S. diner, which serves typical Guatemalan food at cheap prices, more or less $2 for a complete meal. Most of the hotels are pretty basic affars, though we have found the Hotel Otono, a nicer affair (we hope) where we will beliving for the next two weeks starting Saturday.
In spite of, (or maybe because of?), the fact that Momos is not a tourist town, the people are incredibly nice. My role in the making of the film is serving as both a translator & interpreter for the film’s producer within the context of the film and as more of a guide & negotiator within the town, helping us to get permission from officials and from townspeople to film the town and its events. Its been an amazing experience to be able to get to know a Guatemalan pueblo in this manner; not merely passing through, but actually getting a chance to talk to all sorts of people about their practice of their own traditions, as well as observing said traditions. I’ve been working hard at helping folks feel comfortable with the fact that there is a film crew around, and by and large this has been possible. I’m sort of in disbelief that I’ve been able to pick up enough Spanish and Guatemalan customs to make this possible, and am really enjoying being able to do it.
In the course of making the film we will be watching the process of putting together the dances, observing the dances themselves and speaking with dancers, musicians and the townspeople. I’ll update more with pictures and more specific info about the dances as I learn more.
July 9th, 2008
Sitting in the wooden room, listening to the old man talk, its as if we could have been anywhere. Not necessarily on top of a ridge in Guatemala, not necessarily in a small town called San Martin Chiquito (Little San Martin). The placelessness grew stronger as the clouds started to enter the building: what were wisps of cloud could have just as easily been smoke entering from a fire.
This man is a Mayan Spiritual Guide of the Mam tradition, and was merely talking to our group as a friend. He began speaking about the ways in which life is related to nature, and as an example spoke of the way that many Mayan names derive from names given to aspects of the natural world; for example women named after trees. However, this naming tradition changed “when the Spanish invasion came.” (Amazing to think of the Spanish arrival as an invasion upon a people who still feel it 500 years later). The coming of the Spanish brought many new things, including a naming convention consisting of hard to pronounce names such as José and Maria (which has in this generation progressed further to gringo names such as John and Mary). Only the Quiche people, one of 23 Mayan peoples in Guatemala, have retained their Mayan names.
He spoke also of the changes brought by music and movies to the Guatemalan culture and spirit. One more change brought by the Conquistadores. How now the Mayas are being more and more incorporated into el mundo a fuera through hearing and seeing things that are nor part of their culture. I found this interesting, really seeing from the point of view of a man who lives an hour outside of Xela, in a town of 2500 people, which has suffered invasion, dictators and civil war massacres, just really wants to be left alone to practice his religion and culture. However, he was also quite happy to share aspects of this culture with this group of foreign visitors, his guests.
We ended up at his house as part of a visit to Laguna Chicabal, a small volcanic crater transformed into a lake, which is a Mayan sacred site, surrounded by 20 altars representing the 20 Nahuales of the Mayan Calendar, as well as a generally beautiful place to hike and visit. Its also unfortunately a site of some intense civil war battles, and on our hike our guide pointed out old Guerrilla camps, as well as the mountains across the way where the army attacked from. We walked up through the corn fields that provide the town with some of its annual corn harvest, though our guide was quick to point out the harvest is not nearly enough. Coming to the lake after a two hour hike, we were lucky enough to get a beautiful view from the lookout spot just before the clouds came in and obscured it. After looking over the lake, we took 620(!) steps down and spent some time on the shore of the fogged over lake before hiking up and returning down, for a lunch of Caldo de Res (Beef soup - squash, carrots, potatoes, a chunk of beef and a delicious broth) and the aforementioned conversation.
On the hike our guide pointed out man medicinal plants, such as a tree whose bark contains a watery substance which is drunk as a cure for stomach problems. Also a beautiful, sweet smelling form of mint used for liver infections and flowers that can be used as soap. Its great to see how the Mayans learned to benefit from their natural world and incorporate it into their lives.
(I have since hiked back up on a second trip, this time led by the shaman dad. I appreciated being able to travel to the lake with the dad, seeing him pray and give appreciating to the lake, as well as telling some local Mayan cuentas or tales. He also baptized me with a Mayan name, which I can’t spell, but comes out more or less as Jorge Ve, and signifies a descending path with stairs.)
We took the hike with Rogelio of Chicabal Tours, based out of San Martin Chiquito, who is as a friend of mine and head of Conocimiento Para Todos (Knowledge for All) a small project which brings satellite internet to the tiny town in which it resides. The project is all volunteer, and is run out of the same small room we spoke to his father the Shaman in. Quite a site - a small wooden room containing 5 computers and a satellite internet connection, looking over a ridge out over mountains to the Pacific beyond. Rogelio teaches classes seven days a week to provide basic computer & internet skills to the children of the town who would otherwise have no way to acquire these skills. Seeing the dedication of this man, who received a scholarship and actually studied agriculture and computer science in Fresno for two years, is something to behold. He talked about how he could easily leave and find other work, but his calling is there in the town (and home) of his abuelos.
Truly a beautiful day, and inspiring to see people doing the work Rogelio is doing.
June 4th, 2008
If you’re in Xela this Friday, don’t miss this party. And if you’re not, well, plane tickets are cheap these days aren’t they?
May 15th, 2008
A technology worker named Joshua Zeidner interviewed me for his blog last month, about the work I’ve been doing with Partners in Solidarity. The link is here for those that would like to read. Also, a new site should be up for Partners within a few days, more or less designed by me with a little help from my friend DJ Payne on the backend.
May 15th, 2008
I saw this photo on Flickr and thought it was beautiful. I see this women such as these in processions often, but never looking quite like this.
May 15th, 2008
Okay, well maybe two. I’ve been back in Xela now about a week-and-a-half, and am enjoying my time here again. I’ve got some great friends here, and really do enjoy where I live and what I do. Including what happened last weekend.
A Guatemalan friend of mine who has a lot of interest in the religion of the Mayans brought his spiritual guide, Tata Pedro, to Xela for a two day event. Day one was a class on the Mayan Calendar, including its use of twenty Nahuales, which make up the twenty days of the calendar, which repeat in a cycle of 13 months. Each Nahual contains certain characteristics, holding importance both to people born on the individual day, as well as to any activities that might take place on that day. I found the information interesting, but a little much to take in, given the immense amount of information, plus the fact that it was all in Spanish. (I found I could translate the words but had trouble uniting them in any meaningful way). There’s great information about the Mayan Calendar on Wikipedia, and also on the Tzolk’in, or calendar used in Guatemala . There’s also a nice presentation of the nahuales on the web page of a local magazine, Xelawho, prepared by my friend Pedro who organized the event.
The second day of the event, and the “day” mentioned in the title of this post, involved a trip up a mountain above Xela, called La Muella, or the Molar. La Muella was and is a sacred place for the indigenous religion of the region, with its mix of beautiful views, abundant plantlife, volcanic rock outcroppings and steam vents converted into saunas. The group who attended reunited Sunday morning, and after some time gathering materials, stuffed into taxis and cars to get to the trailhead for the hike up La Muella. The hike consists of first a short, easy walk up a trail to a soccer field used by locals of the neighborhood, which this day had a lone horse tied up and awaiting its owner as well. After the field, the trail arrives at a lower-down sacred point, marked by a large rock outcropping and a small shack constructed to allow volcanic steam to be used for saunas. The Tata entered to meditate and use the sauna; we stayed outside, with me doing a little of my own meditation. After this point, the trail heads up a rocky hill, requiring a fair bit of scrambling to reach the peak of the day’s journey, literally and figuratively.
The top of La muella is a small space, surrounded on all sides by rocks and with an amazing view of the valley which gives the 200,000+ residents of Xela their home. In this space we built a fire ring, which was then filled with wood, incense, garlic, sacred seeds and LOTS of colored candles. The candles represent various parts of life on earth, with for example, red representing the sun and black representing the sunset. I found the ritual significance of all the items and their variations to be beautiful. The ceremony went for about an hour and a half, consisting, to my ears anyway, of much giving thanks for the world around us, for our thoughts, for the lives that we live. All this being led by a man who has lived his whole life on Guatemala’s beautiful Lake Atitlan, in a small village named San Pedro. He is 65, never attended school, knows very little of reading or writing, speaks Spanish as a second language (the indigenous Tzu’tuhil as his first). And yet he obviously knows SO much about the world. I’ve been to another ceremony, or banquete espiritual of his in the past, and more than anything they just cause me to feel. Pure emotion. Something about his leading of the ceremony, as well as his spirit, really brings an amazing feeling to me, and also obviously to those around me.
Other parts of the ceremony include a ritual spiritual washing with branches and flowered natural perfume, and the ritual smoking of a cigar. At the end of the ceremony I felt very united with those around me, and unspeakably lucky to be where I am living the life that I am living. Afterwards we shared a traditional Guatemalan meal of Tamalitos de Chipilin (corn tamales with a green herb mixed in), refried black beans and fresh avocados. We walked down the hill, grabbed a taxi, and continued to spend the next hour or so enjoying what a Sunday in a public park can be - friends walking in and out and chatting, just enjoying a nice day in the sun.
Afterwards, met up with a new friend who I have been showing around Xela. I had hoped that we could go off adventuring somewhere, but given the lateness of the day that seemed impossible. However, after doing some walking and exploring we ran into another new friend of mine, who arranged for us to get a ride up another of Xela’s beautiful hills to talk and watch over the beautiful night lights of the city from a covered gazebo.
And so went one of the better days I have had in this town. Through the specialness of the banquete, the powerful feeling of friendship and the spontaneous adventure. Sorry for the long post, if anyone is still reading I hope to hear from people and be in touch. For those that I saw in California, it was great, for those that I didn’t I’m sorry and hope to see you all soon!
josh
May 15th, 2008
Back in California, I found myself walking the two two miles between the Pleasant Hill BART station near San Francisco, and my father’s house, ruminating on being the only walker on a completely non-commercial strip of what essentially amounts to highway. On a two week trip back to the US, I had an interesting time observing cultural and societal differences between Guatemala and California. That suburban walk was certainly a huge diversion from my ultra-urban life living in the center of Xela. Here, its impossible to leave the house without a few buenas dias to strangers, as well as the inevitable conversation with at least one person that I know. Obviously like an urban environment anywhere in the world, but it was a large difference in my trip.
I also noticed a marked difference in the social formalities exhibited by the two cultures. Here in Guatemala, at least in my experience, there is a large amount of what feels like genuine cultural nicety. As mentioned above, there is constant greeting on the streets, even to gringos in a neighborhood where the sight of is common. This as opposed to walking down the street and feeling resentment for being yet another traveler. Walking into and out of stores always comes with its own share of niceness, in greetings and goodbyes. All this combines to allow one to feel very welcomed into the place, as if in some way surrounded by friends. To me, getting back to LA was a marked contrast. There is of course a world of formality as well, but in some way it feels and looks SO much more forced. The attitudes of waiters and waitresses, that of store clerks. Its a subtle difference, but struck me nonetheless.
Other than that, I of course enjoyed the food cultures of LA and San Francisco. And the artistic culture, getting out to museums and photography shows and concerts and DJ events. All that is lacking pretty intensely here in the Guatemalan highlands, in no small part due to the cultural and intellectual genocide carried out here with the help of my very own government. But those thoughts can be saved for another post.
April 28th, 2008
NOW added to the endangered species list in New York City, along with independent booksellers and shoe repair: the neighborhood record store.
Quoted from the New York Times article Record Stores Fight To Be Long-Playing
I read this article about record stores dying in New York City and it made me sad. I’ve had a lot of fun and learned a lot in record stores, and independent retailers in general, over the years. However, these days I find myself spending less and less money in them as I acquire more digitally. Especially being in Central America for the last 5 and a half months, where the only way to acquire media has been in the digital form. Now however, on a two week trip back to California, I’m reliving the feeling of vitality I get when surrounded by the culture inherent in bookstores, record stores and the like and having trouble imagining a world without them. So I guess instead I’ll imagine a world where even those who acquire mass collections of digital media will also take the time to mosie on down to their neighborhood book or record shop and spend a few bucks, which I did do yesterday at the Booksmith book store in San Anselmo, CA yesterday.
March 29th, 2008
I’m sitting here having just bought a ticket home to visit for two weeks thinking a lot about Guatemala and the United States. The reason I’m visiting so soon is that I have some sick family members in both L.A. and the Bay Area, so will be taking some time to visit with both of them. Its hard to have been away this long, and still be away, and be missing my family and feeling the emotions of not being with them, however little time I may have spent with them when I DID live at home.
And though it will be a hard visit, I’m also excited to set my feet on American soil for a variety of reasons. First, the easy ones. I miss my friends and family. I miss hot showers. I miss burritos, Fatburgers, Thai Food, Indian Food, Taco trucks and a montón of other foods I’ve been living without for the past five months. I miss good amber ales and good scotch. And I miss the vibrant nightlife (and daylife) of a big city. Beyond that, I’m curious to see what its like to be in the U.S. after these five months gone. Guatemala and the U.S. really are quite different.
How are they different? I’m not even quite sure yet. Physically, well, living in a Central American historical city center provides its differences. Old houses, peeling paint, crumbling twisty cobblestone roads. Looking up at a volcano all the time. Living for the first time in my life in a city which in which I don’t need a car, and everything is walkable. And the difference in cost of living that allows me to live more-or-less as I like for about $300 a month.
Beyond these differences though are the socio-cultural differences. One huge one is time. Guatemalan Spanish is full of very-often-used words which provide for a vague definition of time. Ahorita (a derivative of ahora, or now) means sometime between now and an hour or two. Un Rato which more or less means A While, is used a lot in situations where a more precise definition of time would be wanted by myself and most people I know at home. City buses run without a schedule; just walk to a street they run on, raise your hand and they stop for you. The world I’m a part of here in Xela places such a smaller relevance on time than the worlds I’m used to at home. I’m still trying to decide how much I like this, though it is definitely a good way to encourage myself to chill out
Thinking about time in Guatemala has alshown me how a different language or use of language can reflect societal concepts. There’s a vagueness that can be heard in other descriptions as well, say when you ask for directions, that points to a less precise cataloging and control of the world then I’m used to. Ask someone where a business or house is, and rather than a street or address, you get allá abajo or allá arriba or recto, recto, recto!”(while pointing in a non-descript direction). After a while, I realized they were just saying “down there”or “up there”or “straight, straight, straight” more or less - frustrating for a new visitor to a ciy. This led me to realize that people from Xela don’t really use addresses, they just know what is near what and get around that way.
More subversive is fear. Before coming to Guatemala, I read lots and lots on the interweb about how dangerous Guatemala could be, but also how beautiful and safe. For me, I can still say I’ve gotten by without even a threatening glance from anybody. But I hear constantly about people who have been robbed, or people-who-know-people who have been robbed. Sometimes I get very sick of hearing these stories, and having to think about them when I walk home.
Other things. Its interesting to live in a culture based around bargaining, where I feel like a chump if I DON’T bargain hard for the things that I buy, whether they be mangoes or socks or computer parts. Its fun being able to buy ice cream in the park for $0.15, even if it is unrefrigerated. Its not so fun to have to worry about the sanitary value of every meal I eat, though I’ve gotten pretty ballsy these days, and as most of you know I love street food so I can’t think too much about that 
And to finish, two things I’ve mentioned before. One being showers. The experience of every shower I’ve had the pleasure of having in a residence of mine for the past five months, is well, an interesting one. First hot, then cold, then warm, then hot, then warm, then cold, then warm, then…. You can never really settle in and enjoy a temperature because it changes so fast. Not to mention the light electrical shock I sometimes get when I turn it up or down.Though it is a pleasure when I find a shower that works well, or when mine works well for a day.
And the second is transportation. Whether it be cheap or luxury, bus or van or car, transportation in this country sucks. Chicken buses are an experience for a short while and dirt cheap, but not comfortable nor particularly safe. And everything else is still made hard by the construction on the roads, which leaves you driving through dust/cloud storms sometimes, or waiting an hour in a cola or line of cars stopped at a construction site.
And all this not saying that I don’t love this country. If you actually made it through all this and have any comments let me know. Or come visit and I’ll show you around.
