After School March 28, 2019
Chasing our ephemeral dream of being fluent in Spanish, Bruce and I attended Jabel Tinamit Spanish School in Panajachel - again! This is our fourth time taking lessons at this school. On the one hand, it seems like we should be further along than we seem to be; on the other hand, it's rather preposterous to think that 8 days of lessons can move things very far along such an enormous challenge, especially since we don't speak a word of Spanish in the interim. "Poco a poco" (little by little) my teacher, Florinda, tells me - and she's right, of course. Bruce and I can both feel ourselves improving as a result of lessons, homework, and immersion in the language through meal-time conversations with our home-stay host, Ana, three times a day.
For me, soaking up the culture and history and making personal connections are just as important as acquiring the language. Actually, they support one another. Thus, while Bruce stays at home, making sense of preterite and imperfect verb tenses, I'm usually pretty ready to sign up for activities at our school. Jabel Tinamit tries to offer one activity each afternoon.
This year's activities, among others, included a walk to nearby Santa Catarina, 3 miles away; a walking tour of Panajachel; attendance at a movie - When Mountains Tremble; and assistance in a reinforcement program to help poor Mayan children improve their reading, math, and English skills.
The walk to Santa Catarina took place while Deb Smith, a friend from our Safe Passage support team - and my teaching partner at Breakwater years ago, was in Pana studying Spanish with us for a few days. One afternoon she and I and a young staff woman, Elizabeth, headed off for Santa Catarina, a Mayan pueblo along the lake. Deb and I looked forward to getting in our 10,000 steps, as well as seeing this town, renowned for the beautiful blue huipiles (handwoven Mayan blouses) that the women all wear. Before we left, Ana had told us that the town was undergoing a project in which the houses were being painted blue, as a reflection of the huipiles for which the town is known. Indeed they were, and not just plain blue - but with stripes or indigenous designs, similar to the textiles. Very charming!
It was a hot day and the road had a steep upward incline along the side of a mountain. When we arrived, we headed for the lake shore for a brief respite on a bench. The views over the lake were serene and timeless.
I was relieved to learn that we would be taking public transportation back to Pana, even if it meant a ride in the back of an open pick-up truck, the local way! As we returned to the center of the village to catch our ride, we heard a band playing a slow dirge and realized that a funeral was taking place. All traffic was stopped as the casket was carried through town, followed by a throng of mourners. Since it was late afternoon, local school kids scampered around, letting off steam after their confinement. These excursions often offer an unexpected slice of life.
The next week, after Deb had returned home, I took another outing on foot, this one a tour of Pana with another young staff member and two other students, one from Germany and one from Slovakia. They became my after-school buds for the week! The tour of Pana took us to the Catholic Church, then the public market filled with produce, raw meat stands, freshly cut flowers, traditional clothing, shoes, hardware - a Guatemalan version of Wal-Mart! As we continued walking, we encountered a lakeside smoldering fire pit with large bouquets of flowers nearby. Our guide explained that this was a Mayan ritual site. These ritual sites become more busy in the period of Lent, an indication of the synchrony between Mayan beliefs and Christian tradition.
At the local cemetery, we learned that tombs are either rented or bought. If a family neglects its rental payment, the body is removed from the tomb, most of which are above ground. Like cemeteries everywhere, the burial plots vary according to the wealth of the family.
The next afternoon a movie was offered at school. Bruce and I had seen the 1983 film, When Mountains Tremble, early in our travels to Guatemala. It exposed to the outside world the terrible events of the civil war here. I was due for a review. The complicity of the US government in the killing of innocent indigenous people left me shaken once again. This film has been followed by two more in the trilogy, which I hope to see when we return home.
On Thursday, my dear former maestre (teacher) from years past, Carmelina, held a weaving demonstration for four of us. Using a form called an urdidor to lay out the vertical threads in a variety of colors, we all had a hand in stringing the threads that would be used as a base for the weaving. Then we took turns trying out the backstrap loom, which is a bit complicated but reportedly becomes relaxing - once one has the hang of it! Sadly, weaving is a dying art, since it is so time consuming and low-paying, despite the absolutely stunning artistry of the woven products that emerge from it.
On Friday, Bruce and I finished up our tutoring sessions - and "graduated"! Our short ceremony included our thanks - in Spanish, of course - to our incredibly patient teachers who had guided us for two straight hours each day, as we haltingly, painfully tried pulling appropriate verb tenses from our mushy brains.
As an added reward - in addition to special snacks - four of the female students were given a chance to play dress-up! Knowing that every woman harbors a desire to try on a beautiful Mayan traditional dress - huipil (blouse), corte (skirt), and faja (the belt that is pulled TIGHT around the waist), a couple of the teachers offered us a chance to try on an outfit from Candelaria's wardrobe. (She and her husband founded Jabel Tinamit.) What fun!
I have been astonished and pleased over the years to see young Mayan women continuing to proudly wear the styles of their ancestors while other cultures have adopted bland, unidentifiable western clothing. Alas, this too is changing, I'm told, due at least in part to the high cost of purchasing these labor-intensive outfits. One handwoven huipil can cost as much as 2000 Quetzales or $260! Normally families make their own, but with the decline in the weaving tradition, this is not always possible, and the cost of purchasing one is prohibitive for many women. And they are a bit uncomfortable for today's active lifestyle. Still, they proclaim the wearer's identity as a proud Mayan woman, so hopefully they will be worn for years to come.
The last activity that I participated in took place the day after my graduation. I had agreed to go to one of the Mayan pueblos outside of Panajachel where Jabel Tinamit has organized a project to reinforce the education of village children. On Saturday mornings, for a couple of hours, the kids come to the library, also founded by Candelaria and husband Gregorio, to play games that will strengthen their math, reading, and English skills. The brilliant part of this program is that it is led by talented adolescents, thereby advancing their own skills.
At 8 a.m. I met Magaly, another wonderful staff person from school. She & I took a very full camioneta (a retrofitted American schoolbus, often referred to by gringos as a "chicken bus") up a steep, curving highway from the lakeside to the high, bustling city of Solola. There we switched to another very crowded, worn minivan and climbed even higher to a small village with a reputation for growing onions. I had been to Monte Mercedes two years ago on another school outing. This time we stopped at the brightly painted library, where a group of children were outside playing an addition and subtraction game under the guidance of two teens. I joined in and helped as best I could.
When they asked if I'd like to go inside to help with an English activity, I opted for that. We worked on color words and read a simple, bilingual book. A couple of the moms brought snack, platanos (bananas) roasted in their skins and atol, a nourishing milky, hot drink made from cornmeal. I enjoyed them both.
On the steps outside, young girls wanted to know how to say their names in English. Before I knew it, our time was over. After photos together, Magaly and I crossed the road to begin our return trip to Panajachel, down the curvy, steep road with breath-taking views of the lake and volcanoes.
And that was my experience with Jabel Tinamit's after-school programming. Fun and social and always a source of rich, new understandings and connections! It's wonderful to see education being embraced as a vehicle for upward mobility!
We are now safely in Antigua. We've just learned of the horrible traffic accident last night that took 18 lives on the Pan American Highway, the same road that we took yesterday. Another sadness for this land that's had so many difficulties. Our hearts go out to those families.
Tomorrow we'll begin our northward trek by flying to Mexico City, a new destination for us. More on that later. In the meantime, hasta luego!
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