Before I write about our final week in Safe Passage, due to end on Friday, I want to tell you about what happened LAST Friday (and so does Bruce). We were just finishing dinner when Mia burst into the house, crying loudly. It was very unlike this cool, mature 19-year old from Freeport, Maine. We all jumped out of our seats to find out what was wrong, while she blurted out, between sobs, that she had just been robbed on the doorstep of the house - with a gun pointed at her!! She had lost her favorite backpack with her journal and a cheap camera, as well as her cell phone, given over when the guy reached into her pocket. At that point she had put up her hands and said, "No mas!" and he had zoomed off on a motorbike. However, amid the tears in the re-telling, her face lit up and she pulled several hundred quetzales from her bra, money which she had just gotten from an ATM machine to pay rent. We are now stashing money all over our bod's, mostly in our shoes, in a swarmy attempt to outwit the bad guys. And we aren't walking alone after dark!
Two Old Gnus
One of the experiences of growing up in the 1950’s was to witness the advent of television. A favorite program was the Wonderful World of Disney and especially the wildlife films from Africa. I was entranced by the shots of the migration of the gnu’s and assorted beasts as they roamed across the plains in search of food and water. The most exciting part of this drama was when the animals were stalked and eventually mauled or killed by the lions, waiting in ambush . The most vulnerable gnus were the old, the young and the disabled who could not keep up with the herd and thus made easy targets for the lions.
Living in Guatemala, those pictures replay in my mind as we are constantly aware of our personal safety and the dilemma of the old gnus becomes very real for us. Walking home in Antigua at night, these two old gnus feel especially vulnerable, not from personal experience but from seeing how the lions have picked off 4 younger female gnus from our herd who left the group and decided to walk by themselves. The lions are especially fond of younger female animals and prefer to steal their backpacks and money rather than kill them for food. Occasionally, younger male gnus get attacked for their computers, MP3 players, IPhones, or other electronic gear. This always happens at night when the gnus have spent too much time at the watering hole and are not thinking clearly or are so egocentric to think that nothing will happen to them.
Maybe there is an advantage to being an older gnu because we don’t walk alone, can’t stay awake much after 9:30, spend limited time at the watering hole, and can pay to take a taxi back to the safety of the jungle. At times, we run into especially clever lions who are more interested in mauling us for money in more sociably acceptable ways.
When these two old gnus visited the beach in Montericco, we realized, from the moment we crossed the river that we were in new territory. As we stepped ashore, the lions gathered around us and asked if we would like their help in learning about the town. The lions were smiling and friendly but lions are lions and, being wary gnus, we decided to decline their offer. When we arrived at the hotel, an especially friendly lion, who was fluent in English followed us onto the grounds and told us his life story. He then offered to take us on a hike along the beach under a full moon that evening to find hatching sea turtles and/or to take us for a boat ride in the bayou early the next morning.
The younger gnu, not wanting to piss off the lion, wanted to do it all and readily agreed to the offer. The older and wiser gnu, not wishing to be on a deserted beach late at night with a lion, nor wanting to get up early in the morning to go into the swamp with a lion, suggested that we go on a later boat ride in the daylight when there were more gnus around.
Being new to this game and a bit slow on the uptake, the older one paid a third more than the going price for the trip in cash to the lion and wondered if the lion would show up in the morning at the appointed time. Sure enough, the lion was waiting for us but announced that he wouldn’t be taking us but we would be escorted by another lion – very suspicious. The attack was brief and consisted only of losing a small portion of money but no lasting damage was done.
We are learning that when you migrate across unfamiliar territory, it pays to be wary of lions, even if they are smiling, to be alert to your surroundings, and to stick with the herd. Also, older gnus are slower but wiser, and sometimes the lions win.
Next week, these gnus will be heading back to more familiar terrain and are looking forward to a familiar language, lettuce, safe food, and good beer. Hopefully, the lions will be fewer and less hungry.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
safe passage blog
While I'm getting the next blog post ready, I'm going to suggest that you check out the Safe Passage blog. I have written a piece about being a "senior" volunteer. You can access it by going to the safe passage website: safepassage.org and then clicking on the word "blog" at the top of the screen.
Also, while you're there, take a look at Lise Belisle's blog(www.bountiful-blog.com) She is the mother of Campbell, whose room is next to ours and who also is volunteering at Safe Passage. Lisa came to Guatemala last week to visit the program and to see her son. She is a doctor and she has a blog, too, in which she has described her experience in Guatemala (among other things). It is extremely well-written and will give you a wonderful look at her impressions of the program. Very thoughtful and spiritual! I know you'll like it.
Coming soon: Saying good-bye to Safe Passage!
Also, while you're there, take a look at Lise Belisle's blog(www.bountiful-blog.com) She is the mother of Campbell, whose room is next to ours and who also is volunteering at Safe Passage. Lisa came to Guatemala last week to visit the program and to see her son. She is a doctor and she has a blog, too, in which she has described her experience in Guatemala (among other things). It is extremely well-written and will give you a wonderful look at her impressions of the program. Very thoughtful and spiritual! I know you'll like it.
Coming soon: Saying good-bye to Safe Passage!
Monday, November 28, 2011
Thanksgiving Day in Guatemala
Thanksgiving is not a Guatemalan holiday, so it was work as usual for all of us Americans last Thursday. However, like many things that you may take for granted at home, the non-holiday seemed to assume quite a lot of nostalgia for Americans here in Guatemala, especially for the young volunteers, who were away from home at Thanksgiving, perhaps for the first time.
Our host family, Jose and Lucky Morales, had been planning for some time to prepare a Thanksgiving dinner for us, to be ready when we returned from Guatemala City at the end of the day. There are 4 Americans living at the house right now, all of us from Maine. We were curious about what the dinner would be like, since Lucky and Jose have never been to America and since we had been told that turkeys are very expensive here.
All day there were buzzings at Safe Passage about various dinners that would take place that evening. Our young housemate, Campbell, was planning to help his friend to cook a dinner, and he had extended a general invitation to everyone on the bus earlier in the week. So Campbell and his friend, Nico, had taken the day off to prepare.
Our Swedish friend had plans to attend yet another Thanksgiving dinner that evening, and she was curious about what to expect. At lunch that day, we all reviewed our own Thanksgiving food traditions. There was definitely a feeling of anticipation in the air.
When we arrived home that evening, there was a nice aroma coming from the kitchen. Both Lucky and Jose were there, all ready for us. On the table, the first thing that caught our attention was the biggest pie that I've ever seen. It was a very dark color, and I assumed that it was chocolate. But no, it was pumpkin, we were told. On closer inspection, it was actually a very dark green. Hmm. We were all a bit dubious at that point. But, first things first. There was also a roasted bird on the table. Turns out it was a cross between a turkey and a chicken. It looked delicious, and it was very good. Along with the "tur-ken" were a dish of light yellow Guatemalan squash, some salsa (a dark brown sauce that took the place of gravy), and garlic bread. Not our usual holiday abundance, but a valiant attempt at authenticity.
In respect for Lucky and Jose's efforts, Campbell arrived for dinner here, before his dinner with his friend. He brought his mom, who was visiting from Maine for the week. Along with Andrea, who hails from Venezuela & Madrid, and Yenna, who is from Korea, there were 9 of us at the table. Bruce was put in charge of carving the bird. Part-way through the meal, Campbell offered his thoughts on what he was thankful for, setting off a round-the-table sharing of gratitude. And the pumpkin pie? Even though it was green, it had been made from a green Guatemalan squash and tasted just like a typical pumpkin pie! Delicious.
Our host family, Jose and Lucky Morales, had been planning for some time to prepare a Thanksgiving dinner for us, to be ready when we returned from Guatemala City at the end of the day. There are 4 Americans living at the house right now, all of us from Maine. We were curious about what the dinner would be like, since Lucky and Jose have never been to America and since we had been told that turkeys are very expensive here.
All day there were buzzings at Safe Passage about various dinners that would take place that evening. Our young housemate, Campbell, was planning to help his friend to cook a dinner, and he had extended a general invitation to everyone on the bus earlier in the week. So Campbell and his friend, Nico, had taken the day off to prepare.
Our Swedish friend had plans to attend yet another Thanksgiving dinner that evening, and she was curious about what to expect. At lunch that day, we all reviewed our own Thanksgiving food traditions. There was definitely a feeling of anticipation in the air.
When we arrived home that evening, there was a nice aroma coming from the kitchen. Both Lucky and Jose were there, all ready for us. On the table, the first thing that caught our attention was the biggest pie that I've ever seen. It was a very dark color, and I assumed that it was chocolate. But no, it was pumpkin, we were told. On closer inspection, it was actually a very dark green. Hmm. We were all a bit dubious at that point. But, first things first. There was also a roasted bird on the table. Turns out it was a cross between a turkey and a chicken. It looked delicious, and it was very good. Along with the "tur-ken" were a dish of light yellow Guatemalan squash, some salsa (a dark brown sauce that took the place of gravy), and garlic bread. Not our usual holiday abundance, but a valiant attempt at authenticity.
In respect for Lucky and Jose's efforts, Campbell arrived for dinner here, before his dinner with his friend. He brought his mom, who was visiting from Maine for the week. Along with Andrea, who hails from Venezuela & Madrid, and Yenna, who is from Korea, there were 9 of us at the table. Bruce was put in charge of carving the bird. Part-way through the meal, Campbell offered his thoughts on what he was thankful for, setting off a round-the-table sharing of gratitude. And the pumpkin pie? Even though it was green, it had been made from a green Guatemalan squash and tasted just like a typical pumpkin pie! Delicious.
Friday, November 18, 2011
A Weekend at the Beach
Since arriving in Antigua 6 weeks ago, we have stuck pretty close to "home" and have used our weekends to rest and learn about the town. But we were ready, last weekend, to explore a new area, the Pacific coast town of Montericco. It's only a 2 hour drive from Antigua, but a whole other world, in terms of climate and lifestyle!
Waterfront in Montericco
We began our trip with a 40 minute van ride around the bumpy, cobblestone streets of Antigua, picking up 8 other passengers, all in their 20s' and early 30's, from all parts of the world. They included 3 Sarah's (from Canada and Britain), plus a guy from Norway, and our first Bulgarian, a delightful young woman who has traveled extensively in her job for a Munich travel agency.
Suddenly the road ended, literally, at the dock of a tiny river town. Our little band of travelers waited while the van driver conversed with the horde of hustlers that were vying to take us down the river to Montericco. We, of course, had not known that the trip would entail a boat ride and another fee, but such is travel in this part of the world. It was a very small fee (60 cents/5 Quetzales) to take the public boat, so we all opted for that and hopped on with a bunch of locals. The boat wound its way down the flat river, bordered by mangroves or vast grassy areas. Majestic white egrets were occasionally startled from a high perch or could be seen hiding among the shelter of the mangroves. It felt like what we imagine southeast Asia to be like.
The green pool just outside our cabana
We were greeted in the small village of Montericco by another group of hustlers but we had been warned by our Antigua host, Jose, not to talk to them, as they might very well try to charge a fee. We did our best to ignore them as we got our bearings and made our way to our little beach resort, about a 1/2 mile away. The main street of Montericco was paved but side streets were dusty and hot. Chickens roamed around, laundry hung from fences, a big old pig ambled down the street, people were cooking outside. It was pretty relaxed! We were ready for a cold Moza when we arrived.
The Pez de Oro had been recommended by Jose, and it turned out to be just as delightful as he had said. It consisted of 18 small, colorful cabanas with thatched roofs, 2 small swimming pools, palm trees, brick walkways, with a restaurant looking out over the black volcanic sand to the blue, blue ocean. It was very charming! (You can google it to see for yourself.) We spent the next three days there, indulging ourselves in warmth and good food. One morning we went for a private boat paddle along the mangrove trees, looking at the wildlife, mostly birds. No alligators. It was very peaceful and lovely. Late one afternoon we watched as a crowd gathered for a baby turtle race to the ocean, organized by the turtle sanctuary next door. Both evenings, we walked to Jonny's Place, a much more lively, party spot down the beach, for drinks with our van mates. Mostly we rocked in the hammock on our little porch or lounged around the pool. The ocean was ferocious with huge waves pounding against the shore so we didn't swim there. The pools, I must say, were a bit dubious looking in color but we did cool off in them a few times.
Back in Antigua
The van ride back to Antigua on Monday afternoon was quiet. Most everyone had already left on Sunday. Apparently, Montericco is becoming a popular weekend spot for middle class Guatemala City families. But this is the slow season. We were the only guests at the Pez de Oro on Monday, and just one other couple shared the van. It was a fast ride that had us holding our breath as we passed slower moving vehicles on winding roads. I'm guessing that the driver got his training as a chicken bus driver. But we made it safely.
We began our trip with a 40 minute van ride around the bumpy, cobblestone streets of Antigua, picking up 8 other passengers, all in their 20s' and early 30's, from all parts of the world. They included 3 Sarah's (from Canada and Britain), plus a guy from Norway, and our first Bulgarian, a delightful young woman who has traveled extensively in her job for a Munich travel agency.
sunset over the Pacific
As we emerged from our small city, we were treated to the sight of the 3 volcanoes that surround us here. It quickly became clear that we had left behind the relative sophistication of Antigua when we encountered men trudging along the highway, each bent under a load of sticks for firewood, or mules laden with great bundles of grasses of some sort. As we descended from the mountains, where Antigua is located at 5000 ft. to the coastal plain at sea level, the temperature rose and the crops changed to sugar cane with occasional fields full of white Brahma bulls. We began seeing houses with thatched roofs and the whole atmosphere seemed slower and more sultry.
Suddenly the road ended, literally, at the dock of a tiny river town. Our little band of travelers waited while the van driver conversed with the horde of hustlers that were vying to take us down the river to Montericco. We, of course, had not known that the trip would entail a boat ride and another fee, but such is travel in this part of the world. It was a very small fee (60 cents/5 Quetzales) to take the public boat, so we all opted for that and hopped on with a bunch of locals. The boat wound its way down the flat river, bordered by mangroves or vast grassy areas. Majestic white egrets were occasionally startled from a high perch or could be seen hiding among the shelter of the mangroves. It felt like what we imagine southeast Asia to be like.
We were greeted in the small village of Montericco by another group of hustlers but we had been warned by our Antigua host, Jose, not to talk to them, as they might very well try to charge a fee. We did our best to ignore them as we got our bearings and made our way to our little beach resort, about a 1/2 mile away. The main street of Montericco was paved but side streets were dusty and hot. Chickens roamed around, laundry hung from fences, a big old pig ambled down the street, people were cooking outside. It was pretty relaxed! We were ready for a cold Moza when we arrived.
The Pez de Oro had been recommended by Jose, and it turned out to be just as delightful as he had said. It consisted of 18 small, colorful cabanas with thatched roofs, 2 small swimming pools, palm trees, brick walkways, with a restaurant looking out over the black volcanic sand to the blue, blue ocean. It was very charming! (You can google it to see for yourself.) We spent the next three days there, indulging ourselves in warmth and good food. One morning we went for a private boat paddle along the mangrove trees, looking at the wildlife, mostly birds. No alligators. It was very peaceful and lovely. Late one afternoon we watched as a crowd gathered for a baby turtle race to the ocean, organized by the turtle sanctuary next door. Both evenings, we walked to Jonny's Place, a much more lively, party spot down the beach, for drinks with our van mates. Mostly we rocked in the hammock on our little porch or lounged around the pool. The ocean was ferocious with huge waves pounding against the shore so we didn't swim there. The pools, I must say, were a bit dubious looking in color but we did cool off in them a few times.
The van ride back to Antigua on Monday afternoon was quiet. Most everyone had already left on Sunday. Apparently, Montericco is becoming a popular weekend spot for middle class Guatemala City families. But this is the slow season. We were the only guests at the Pez de Oro on Monday, and just one other couple shared the van. It was a fast ride that had us holding our breath as we passed slower moving vehicles on winding roads. I'm guessing that the driver got his training as a chicken bus driver. But we made it safely.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Day of the Dead/All Saints Day/Dia de Todos los Santos
Last Tuesday, November 1st, was All Saints Day in Latin America - and other places, I´m sure. Contrary to what would think, it is a day filled with good food and a festival atmosphere - but at cemeteries! One of the traditions associated with the day is kite-flying. Two nearby towns have taken that tradition and mega-sized it with GIGANTIC kites, drawing crowds of people. The kites serve several purposes: to raise the souls of the dead to heaven, to express memories of past suffering and hopes for the future, to take messages to those in heaven, and to turn away evil spirits. Pretty heavy responsibilities. They are created using bright colors in intricate artwork.
We traveled on a bus filled with other curious gringoes to the nearby Mayan town of Sumpango. The event was taking place on a soccer field, not in a cemetery. It´s apparently easier for the kites to be set up and judged there. Oh, yes, in Sumpango, there is competition involved. There was definitely a festival atmosphere with small kites for sale, other trinkets, hand-made Mayan crafts, and lots of ¨fair¨ food, including grilled corn on the cob - served on a piece of husk with salt and a wedge of lime - grilled meat, tortillas, bright yellow ice cream, other sweets, popcorn. The only thing missing was bloomin´ onions! It could have been the Common Ground Fair except for the huge kites looming over everything.
I took lots of photos, and then, because the sun was fierce, Bruce and I took refuge on a high bluff covered by an open-sided tent. It turns out that this was a VIP area and who should Bruce meet there but the new American ambassador to Guatemala, Arnold Cochon. Arnold was wearing a Boston Red Sox cap and Bruce commented on it, thus beginning a chat. Only part way through was it revealed that he was the ambassador and head of the US Embassy. He is of Cuban descent, we learned later, and his son attends Phillips Andover, thus the Sox cap. We talked about some of the challenges that he is facing, as well as our work at Safe Passage. He seemed like a nice guy with a big job to do.
After a refreshing local Moza beer under the big tent, we ventured down to some covered bleachers and spent time just people-watching. By mid-afternoon, the kites began to be prepared for flight. They look quite heavy with their bamboo frames and huge size, despite the tissue paper interiors. (But then, I never could imagine how humungous jets can take flight.) They were sent up one at a time. Most were unable to soar very high and came plummeting into the crowded field in a wild, drunken trajectory, veering from side to side and sending the crowd running. One or two kites managed to escape the confines of the sheltered field and catch enough wind to climb into the sky. They were a beautiful sight, then, and joined many other smaller kites being flown by individual families on a hillside, dotting the sky with happy splotches of color and hope and tradition. We arrived back at the Morales home in Antigua, early that evening, dusty and tired and a bit sunburned, ready for a shower but glad to have experienced this piece of Guatemalan culture.
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| detail from a kite design |
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Day of the Dead preview
In the meantime, our Xela buddies - minus Jeff and Jing, who are settled in Worcester, Mass. for some medical training there - stopped in Antigua briefly for dinner one night, on their way to the Mayan ruins up north and the Atlantic coast. It was great to see them. Our Safe Passage colleagues have been slow to warm up to a couple of ¨seniors¨, and we´re missing our social outlets. We chatted up a storm over Tuscan food and felt very fulfilled.
This past weekend was a holiday weekend as families geared up for the Day of the Dead/All Saints Day on Tuesday, November 1. All of the other 7 guests left the Morales home to go on short adventures or to leave Antigua for good.
On Saturday, Bruce and I were going out for coffee in the afternoon, when we had another amazing serrendipitous occurence. We stumbled upon a ¨procesion¨, which was an event related to All Saints Day. It consisted of another huge casket (see the last posting and photos above) but this one was the most GIGANTIC casket ever seen. In addition to the symbolic body in a glass case on top of it, there were little angels spouting water! It took no less than 90 rugged men to shoulder it - and the whole crew was rotated out every half hour or so. This was necessary as the procesion paraded around town for 8 hours!! The casket gang, all dressed in formal black dress suits, were preceded by boys swinging incense pots, young men dressed in long black robes tinged with gold, and women in black dresses with lacy gold head-coverings. Big banners were carried, announcing the name of the church that was sponsoring the procesion. A band with tubas, marimbas, and huge drums played an array of somber marching tunes from the rear. It was crucial that the ¨pall bearors¨ sway in sync as they made their way down the street, and the band´s rhythm helped. Crowds lined the streets and traffic was tied up, as people poured into Antigua from Guatemala City and surrounding areas to view the event. Again, it was an ancient, mid-ieval rite, and we felt so lucky to have encountered it. While others were lounging on a Pacific coast beach, we were catching a glimpse of a time long ago - right here and now in Antigua. That night, as we were drifting to sleep around 11pm, we heard the faint sounds of drums which got louder and louder. Sure enough, the procesion was passing our house. I got out of bed and climbed the circular staircase to the rooftop terrace to watch the big casket, now lit up with electric candles, as it swayed and backed and filled its way around the corner on this narrow street. The crowds were much diminished on this final swing through town.
We understand from our hosts that this was just a minor happening, compared to the processions and public events which take place in Antigua during the Easter season, when people come from all over the world to participate in Holy Week. We won't be here then, alas!
BTW, it just took me 2 hours (!) to figure out how to get these photos from my camera onto this blog. But I did it! Now I can go to bed.
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