Day 28: Goodbyes

This morning we're leaving our host family to seek parts unknown. There was tearing up yesterday so I'm expecting a downpour from our host mom when we leave. It's incredible how important they've become to me after less than a month.

I'm really behind on this blog -- I've got a zillion photos to upload and we took a zillion more last night -- but don't worry, I'll catch up!

So yeah. I should eat breakfast and brush my teeth maybe. Also the straps on my backpack are ripping so I am a little worried about that, because it is definitely heavier than before with all the chocolate I bought!

Goodbye Xela.

Day 9: Chocolate!

Monday, January 11

If I haven't mentioned it before, I should have: Guatemala has the best chocolate in the world. Like seriously, I'm going to cry every time I have a mug of hot chocolate in the United States because it doesn't compare to the magic that I drink here.

Last week we learned how to make chocolate by hand from Hannah H's and Grace's host mom and grandma. They also have machines that make it faster, but it's cool that they remember and share how to do it the traditional way. 14 of us crowded into the kitchen of Mira and her mother, Estela, which already smelled of rich, warm chocolate.

This is a cacao fruit. Not to be confused with coco, which is coconut, or coca, which is cocaine. 

A cacao bean. The shell is really hard to get open, and the bean doesn't taste much like chocolate at all. It's bitter and tastes like bark.

Estela roasted the beans over a hot, flaming stove. This makes the shells come off easily and the bean taste like chocolate.

Then we shelled the beans...

...and ground them up into a powder. Once a pile of chocolate was fine enough, Mira added handfuls of sugar and that mixture was ground together. Eventually, it turns into...

...this. Since cacao beans contain butter, the friction from the grinding stone turns the cacao into a paste. With solid sugar added, it becomes dough. Play-dough, actually. We got to make chocolate sculptures and sneak bits of dough into our mouths. This is the product Mira and Estela sell, with your choice of vanilla or cinnamon mixed in. Unfortunately, it's harder than a brick after it cools, so it doesn't make a convenient treat.  

The chocolate's intended purpose is to become a beverage. Guatemalan hot chocolate is made by dissolving a chocolate brick in hot water. That's it. You can ask for milk, but really, it doesn't need it.

That night my roommate and I tried to reproduce the magic hot chocolate with a microwave. We didn't know how to break the chocolate apart so we tried scraping it off with a knife. It wasn't very good. Later, our host mom showed us how to do it right. You just plop the whole thing in a pot of water and get it real hot, and stir it up. I guess the traditional Maya magic-chocolate just isn't compatible with microwaves.

Corrections

Shortly after my last post, my friend Camina (who also has a spectacular blog) told me I wrote "sunset" instead of "sunrise," and that "Indians" is not the right word to use. Every country has a different preferred word, it seems, for their indigenous population. There are the politically correct words, the words that the people themselves use, and it all varies from place to place.

In Mexico and Central America, it's "indigenous people" unless you want to use the name of a specific group, which is better. There are about 25 different indigenous cultures, all speaking different languages (of the Maya language family). Depending on which statistics you use, something around 50% of Guatemalans are indigenous.
 
I'm told that in South America they prefer "aboriginal." In the United States some prefer "Native American" and some "Indian," which is a bit confusing. And in Canada it's "First People." That's a lot of words of keep straight.

So I went back and changed some words, hopefully I didn't miss anything.

Day 7: Another frikken mountain

Saturday, January 9. (How do you like the new fancy look? Nice, huh?)

Saturday morning, the one precious day of the week when a student can reasonably expect to sleep in, I was up well before the crack of dawn to seek adventure and really sore legs. My roommate and I went to the school at 3AM to meet the other students foolish enough to climb Santa María.

That triangle, safely in the distance where it belongs, is Santa María: whopping big volcano. It is the 5th highest mountain peak in Guatemala, and the 7th highest in Central America at 12,375 ft. (For perspective, Mt. Rainier has an elevation of 14,417 ft.) Santa María had been dormant for centuries until earthquakes started in January of 1902 and it exploded in October. It was one of the largest eruptions of the 20th century. 20 years later new eruptions began, and a lava dome formed in the crater from the 1902 eruption, on the south-west side. This side dome is called Santiaguito, and is still active today.

Quetzaltenango is at an elevation of 7,640 ft. That still leaves 5,000 ft to climb in one day. The idea of starting at 3 in the morning was to reach the summit in time to watch the sunrise and see lava glowing in Santiaguito.

We started out on a dirt road with a slight incline. We were a dozen students, our TA, 2 guides, the bus driver, and 2 policía to make sure we didn't get mugged. After only five minutes we norteamericanos were already panting for breath. I'm going to blame that on the elevation and lack of oxygen, and not on all of us being out of shape. For the first 2 hours we kept our headlamps pointed at the ground, watching out for horse poop and potential ankle-twisters. The scenery was lost to us, it was too dark to see anything. The sky gifted us with a few shooting stars, but for the most part we were too busy watching the ground to admire the ceiling.

Dawn crept up behind us, bringing with it morning fog that overpowered the lights of Xela far below.

At this point I really don't know how we're still smiling. Mountain climbing is hard work!

It gets cold at night, cold enough you need a coat, but it doesn't frost. As we climbed higher, however, tiny ice crystals crunched beneath our tennis shoes. After it melted in the sun it made for a slippery hike down.

We passed several rocks with the name Paco spray painted in orange. One rock said "fin." It lied. We were no where near the end. Eventually we did get there... and it looked like this.  

Somewhere out there by that line of clouds is the Pacific Ocean.

 

 

The summit is up there. After reaching the summit we spent an hour just below it, watching the smoking lava dome Santiaguito.

And then...

We interrupt this volcano to bring you... a dog. It probably has fleas. 

A picture of everybody taking pictures.

Aaaand me! Are you happy, Mom?

Me and my partner in class, Morgen. Santiaguito has settled down in the background.

And then it stopped being settled. That's two eruptions we saw! The second time was later in the day so there were a lot more people around watching. 

On the summit there were two Guatemalan brothers camping. They now live in the US, but they come back home to climb volcanoes. One of them talked to us about the surrounding mountain peaks, volcanologists, and some of the customs of the indigenous people. Santa María is a sacred place to the Maya; at the top we found bouquets of flowers left there by indigenous people. As the day wore on more and more people arrived at the summit, many of the women wearing the traditional Maya dresses. 

One consequence of this place being frequented by so many people, Guatemalans and tourists alike, is that even at the top of world there is so much garbage. The man we talked to said that even though the volcano is sacred to the indigenous people, it's mostly them who leave behind all the trash. Guatemalans in general are litterbugs, but the man thinks that the indigenous people don't have "a sense of the permanence of plastic" because, historically, all of their garbage was biodegradable. Corn husks and things like that don't stick around for centuries.

We arrived at the summit at about 8AM, after 4 and a half hours of climbing. After an hour's rest, we headed back down. The hill in the photo above is El Baúl, where our CASPmates who didn't want to suffer through climbing a frikken mountain spent their morning. Apparently, there are long slides at the top, and they brought pieces of cardboard to slide down on. 

In most of Latin America it is extremely rude to take pictures of people without asking, especially of children. In Guatemala's past there were people dressed as tourists who would take pictures of little children and then later those kids would be kidnapped. This father asked me to take his picture.

We passed a lot of people heading up the trail while we were going down. They wore ordinary clothes, as if climbing Santa María is an every day normal activity for them. Meanwhile we were carrying water, snacks, and sweat absorbing headbands and almost dying. As I said before, many of the women wore the traditional dresses. There were old men and women, sleeping babies being carried by parents and big siblings, and bouquets of flowers, all going up the mountain.

The lower elevations, which we were previously blind to at 3:30 in the morning, were lush and green. The first stretch of the trail is also used by farmers and their poopy horses.

Viewed from the beginning of the trail, that's the thing we climbed. I had an orange ice cream bar afterwards, and it was the best ice cream I've ever had. 

Day 3: Iglesia de San Andres Xecul

Wednesday, January 6.

After class we went to the town of San Andres Xecul to see the church. In Xela it's mostly protestants, but in San Andres Xecul the population is solidly catholic and indigenous. This church in particular is a fascinating example of syncretism, the blending of two different religious beliefs. In this case, catholicism from Spain and certain Mayan traditions. Syncretism isn't anything unusual, just think about our Christmas traditions. For a people being conquered and forcefully converted, syncretism provides a way to preserve your own culture and to sneakily worship the gods of your parents and their parents. Many years later, we have churches like this one. Every year they have festivals in the square in front of the church where people dress up like animals and dance, a leftover Mayan tradition.

No photography is allowed inside the church. The most interesting thing I noticed was that all of the images, life size figurines of Jesus and other people, were clothed in fabric with traditional Mayan patterns. They were really pretty.

Several flags were displayed in front, including the United States'. Besides praying for their own country and leaders, loved ones that have emigrated to the U.S. motivates them to pray for our country, too.  

When we first entered the church all the pews were standing on end and women were busy sweeping and mopping, and they were taking the images out of their cases to be cleaned. They were busy preparing for el Día de los Tres Reyes, the day that all of Latin America celebrates the arrival of the three wise men, and the end of Christmas-time.

And then we climbed a big ol' hill. 
 

We walked up to the top of this hill to see the town below us, and also for a bit of a preview of the hike we'd be attempting on Saturday. The elevation here is about 7,500 feet... which is more than enough to make oxygen acquisition a challenge. We also saw a black cat with one eye gouged out, it was gross. (If only it had an eye patch it would be Cat Fury.)

 

At the top there was a little chapel painted the same bright yellow as the main church.

Those are angels at the top, not ghosts.

Next to the chapel was a place where people burn incense and other stuff. The smell is quite tangible. Patricia, our guide, explained a bit about the Mayan tradition. High places are sacred to them because they're closer to the heavens, and they burn incense and sacrifices because the smoke is pleasing to whoever is up there (be that the Mayan gods or the Christian one). Today they will burn things like food to demonstrate that worldly possessions are not important, but rather God and spiritual things are.

And that's the view.

One some roofs there were dyed threads for weaving hung up to dry. The day before we visited a co-op of weavers called Trama Textiles, and they told us that some dyes are made out of beets and carrots. Artificial dyes are also used, which is a lot easier.

This trip raised some questions in my head about tourism and how appropriate it is to visit special places like churches. The building itself is beautiful and visiting it was a great way to learn about the town's culture, and I think that culture is something that should be shared with outsiders. However, the church building and the little chapel were in use by the people who live there, and we were in the way. People were busy cleaning the church, and people were coming inside to pray. We were a large group of 30-some foreigners with cameras and wide eyes... and I think that was disrespectful of us.

Everyday: My school

This is what I see as I'm walking to school. The school is four stories tall and is two buildings connected by a patio. The upper stories are apartments that are rented out to students. 

Casa Xelajú is the name of our school. Guatemala is known for having a lot of language schools for tourists who want to learn Spanish. 

The inside. Yup, it's a room.

The patio.

There are about 30 of us Whitworth students, CASP and the Jan Term group combined. We attend class from 8am to 1pm, with a 30 minute break to eat sweet bread and drink coffee or tea. We're each in groups of 2 students per professor, who customizes our lessons based on our individual needs. I spend the first 4 hours with my partner, Morgen, and our teacher Jorge. Then, for the last hour, we split up and I get Jorge all to myself and she works with another teacher. It's really fun, but by the end I'm glad it's time for lunch and I can stop practicing grammar.

After lunch we all do an activity for a couple of hours. This week we start volunteering at la Pedrera, which is kind of like a Boys and Girls club that our school supports.

All of the staff at Casa Xelajú are really nice and helpful; it's a good place to learn Spanish.

Day 2: Tour of Quetzaltenango

Monday, January 4 (happy birthday, Mom!)

After our first day of class and almuerzo we regrouped to walk around the city and learn about its history. As hard as I try to not feel like a tourist, it's impossible to be anything else when in a group of 30 norteamericanos with cameras locked and loaded. 

This city, the second largest and second most important in Guatemala, is known by three names. It was originally called Xelajú (pronounced "shay-la-hoo") by the Maya people and later by the Ki'che' people who conquered them. Xelaju' noj means "under 10 mountains." The city was (probably) already 300 years old when Spanish conquistadors took over in the 1520s. They called it by their Nahuatl allies name, "Quetzaltenango," which manes "place of the quetzal bird." Today Quetzaltenango is the official name, but many  people still use Xela (a shortened version of Xelajú) interchangeably. 

Here is a typical street in our part of the city. The houses and shops are in rows and painted bright colors, and everything is on a hill.

Most of the sidewalks are very narrow and uneven. You have to watch out for cars and dog poop, and also to not twist your ankle. Pedestrians do not have the right of way or crosswalks.

We crossed through the central park to see the Municipal Palace. It was built in 1812, once served as Quetzaltenango's first hospital, and survived the earthquake in 1902. Besides Spanish, 24 indigenous languages are spoken in Guatemala, K'iche' being the most common with 1 million speakers (11% of the population). All of the signs in the Municipal Palace are written in both Spanish and K'iche'.

The three flags pictured here (from left to right) are of Quetzaltenango, Guatemala, and the Federal Republic of Central America. The Federal Republic of Central America lasted from 1821 to 1841 and consisted of the 5 states of Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica. In 1838 a sixth state was officially added, Los Altos, of which Quetzaltenango was the capital. After the Federal Republic fell apart, Los Altos became an independent nation... until the Guatemalan army forcibly reincorporated it in 1840. They declared independence from Guatemala a second time in 1848 and were once again reincorporated in 1849. The people here are very proud of the fact that their city was once the head of the sixth state.

This painting is a representation of Quetzaltenango. The banner is the flag of the sixth state, the volcano Santa Maria is framed in the background, along with a flying quetzal. The quetzal is the national bird of Guatemala, and the money here is named after it. It symbolizes freedom because if kept in a cage it cannot survive. There used to be a lot of quetzales but now they are rarely seen because they were hunted so much. The woman sitting has a bunch of food spread out on the ground, crops grown in the area, and in the bottom right corner there is a marimba. Marimbas are insanely popular in Guatemala; they're the national instrument. On the bus ride to Xela our driver talked about how he and his father, who is from Mexico, would get into arguments all the time about the origin place of the marimba, whether it was Guatemala or Mexico (it was Guatemala). 

And the Municipal Palace from outside. There's an ATM at the corner that charges me $4 USD for every transaction.

 

A cool painting of a quetzal! They're really pretty, I hope I get to see one. (After some research I am doubtful that is, in fact, a quetzal. It doesn't have a red belly, and also has a hummingbird beak. But the tail feathers? I am confused.) (Another update: Colibri means hummingbird. It's definitely a hummingbird. But guys I wanted it to be a quetzal so bad!!!)

Some of the buildings around the central park, and our fearless guide, Patricia. She's really cute and nice.

The theater! It's really old.

Santa Maria in the distance.

The view of the city from the top of our school. What a long first day.

I'm sure you can tell from the fact that my descriptions of each picture have gotten shorter, that I really tired. And I still have some homework left to do. Another blog post tomorrow, perhaps.