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.

Day 1: Bus rides are fun

January 3 (slowly but surely, I'm catching up to the present day)

After the disappointment of our missing luggage, we crammed into a little bus to make the 4 hour trip to Quetzaltenango.

Lanes and speed limits aren't observed in Guatemala, which makes driving in the city very.... exciting. Once outside Guatemala City, we followed a highway through mountains. The engine was very loud and the windows rattled every time we went over a bump (which was often), but I somehow managed to fall asleep. Every now and then we could see one of the volcanoes in the distance, a steep triangle, towering over the other hills.    

We made one stop to fill the tank of the bus and empty our own tanks. We students learned that it's normal in Latinoamérica for public restrooms to not provide toilet paper, so you have to bring your own when traveling. As is typical with groups of Whitworth students, and especially in the humanities, 90% of us are female. When there are 2 available bathrooms, why should las damas wait in a line while bathroom for los cabelleros is free? A group of motorcyclists in the parking lot were very surprised when a female student exited the men's room and Lindy (our male professor) came out of the women's!  
   

 

Less than an hour away from Quetzaltenango, we heard a loud PWOOF and the bus stopped. Our driver, who had been chatting with Professor Lindy about marimbas and politics, managed to restart it once but it wasn't going anywhere fast. We sat for a while on the side of the road while the driver, the two men driving behind us with more of our luggage, and men from the houses around us puzzled about the problem. They poured water into the radiator, which was accessed through a hatch between the driver and passenger seat, while it continued to spew smoke into the cab. After several liters of water and a good hour of waiting, the bus was able to creep up the hill and eventually pick up speed. I fell asleep again.

We made it to our new home around 8 o'clock at night. After some difficulty parking the bus in the narrow, one way streets, we happily tumbled out of the bus and into the courtyard of the language school. There we were reunited with our friends who had been waiting for us, and introduced to our host mothers. My compañera de casa, Emily, and I followed our new mom along the dark, uneven cobblestone streets to our house, which will be the subject of another post.    

Clouds for Elayna

Day 0-1: More flying, more airports, and more waiting

January 2-3

I left you on a cliffhanger in LAX, and that is where I will pick up. A confusing, under-construction mess of an airport, every time I headed in a direction to look for a drinking fountain I ended up back where I started. During that 6 hour layover we were joined by the second Guatemala group from Whitworth, as well as our fearless professor, Lindy.

We waited in LAX for a long time.

Our farewell from LAX and the country, in comic sans. 

Welcome aboard Copa airlines, plane 3 out of 4. Everything is bilingual, they give you a real knife to cut your questionable omelet with, and you get to watch TV. I watched The Bucket List, that one with Morgan Freeman. The plot was predictable, but still good because it had Morgan Freeman. We left Los Angeles at 9pm and arrived in Panama City at 6:30am, but magically, only 6 and a half hours had passed. Funny thing about living on a round earth.  

I didn't have a window seat this trip, which was a bummer, but I doubt I would have seen much since it was night time. Here is the sunrise over somewhere. It looked cooler in person, but then I was leaning over people in order to snap this photo. This sight was one of the most beautiful I have seen yet in my life.

 

Panama, Panama! A little bit farther south than we wanted (try 800 miles too far), but our latino senses were tingling. The airport was much smaller than LAX, but had that same circular layout that confounds my sense of direction. I slept a lot in the airport to make up for the red eye flight.

Our last flight, and boy were we happy. Goodbye Panama, Panama (I love saying that name, it's almost as good as Walla Walla, Washington), here we come Guatemala City! ... after another round of safety debriefings, cat naps, and tiny airplane meals.

Again, I don't know what country I was over, but look! Volcanoes!

Touchdown in Guatemala City. This airport seemed dead in comparison with the others, many of the gates were closed. Until we got to the baggage claim we were the only travelers in sight. There were the usual airport stores, but the employees were standing around with no customers to deal with. I wonder how much that has to do with the current situation in the capital.

Bad news awaited us at the baggage claim. About a dozen of us, including our two profesores, were missing luggage. They'd come on the next flight from Panama, we were told. We split up, the bourgeoisie loaded their suitcases onto a bus and continued on to our new home in Quetzaltenango, while we the proletariat waited another 2 hours for our bags to arrive. We (quite literally) danced with joy when the baggage carousal started moving and suitcases came through the flaps in the wall. Camina shared a heartfelt embrace with her backpack when they were reunited. The excitement died down after we saw the same red suitcase circle the carousal one hundred times and there was still no sign of most of the luggage. 8 of us students, plus our profes, were going to be very smelly after a few days without clean clothes.

With nothing else to be done, we left our camp in the baggage claim to find food and agua pura, then stuffed ourselves into a bus for the next leg of our journey. Our luggage (hopefully) will follow us in a day or two.      

But seriously, how do you lose a bright purple backpack? I'd say don't fly Copa Airlines, but I don't think there is another airline.

Day 0: Flying... and layovers

Eastern Washington remains coated in snow and spiky icicles, but two plane rides later the people of Los Angeles International Airport are wearing shorts and t-shirts. Yesterday was spent in Spokane with these three, playing Tsuro and Happy Family (basically Go-Fish). It was a good send off.

 

This morning I met my CASPmates at Spokane airport, and after several awkward group photos we were finally boarding plane one out of four. It had a total of 20 rows and gave us a very entertaining take-off and landing. Spokane to Portland: just under an hour.

Portland to Los Angeles: 2 hours. Made enjoyable with complementary English breakfast tea.

 

Approaching Los Angeles. This is the farthest south I have ever been. 

 

After a few more hours of exploring LAX, we will board plane 3 out of 4 to Panama City, crossing 2 time zones. Then we'll jump back a zone on our final flight to Guatemala City. 

More to come.