Showcases Mushrooms and Temescales

If snack wrappers blemishing the Guatemalan countryside dishearten you, take heart. There are places you can go where litter is not only unseen, its demise is being plotted.

They are snapshots of Guatemala’s glory before the modern container revolution. And, primero Dios, they are foretastes of the coming restoration of that glory.

The revolution in question sprung upon Guatemala only a generation ago. Sugary drinks, salt-laden crunchies and puffed pig fat began appearing on tienda shelves, attired in zany, mass-market packaging. They were still a poor value, but at least cheap enough to be occasionally within the reach of almost everyone.

Unlike a banana wrapper, however, these synthetic skins had a way of sticking around long after their usefulness. Indeed, those discarded 30 years ago are still with us, marring roadsides and bulking out clandestine dumps.

“One reason,” says Brittany Sickler, “is that people may take for granted that such packaging [unlike organic peels, etc.], decomposes.”

The North Dakotan Peace Corps volunteer says that she herself goes to the mercado and buys blocks of cheese and other foods wrapped in “organic” packaging like milpa leaves.

Sickler labors alongside Guatemalans at the Corazón del Bosque (Heart of the Forest) reserve in the village of Novillero, at kilometer 145 on the Panamerican Highway. This education and reforestation center, which covers about 40 hectares in Sololá Department, is one of eight such projects in the province. They operate through the cooperation of several governmental agencies with Vivamos Mejor, a Panajachel-based NGO.

Most of the reserved areas are in lakeshore communities such as Santa María Visitación, with the one in Novillero being an exception. The Novillero site, however, is an ideal showcase for the entire campaign, located as it is on the most-traveled highway in Guatemala. Garbage is nowhere to be seen—save for in receptacles, and even most of that is sorted onsite for recycling.

The presentation at the education building is targeted to schoolchildren, whom the educators consider the conscience and future of Guatemalan environmentalism. It begins with a video of a puppeteer mimicking a whimsical bird with his own painted hands. The bird, unfettered by limits of time and space, shows the wasteland that Guatemala might become if erosion and deforestation continue unabated. This is followed by an orientation to tree planting, technical yet geared to young minds.

The youngsters are then taken to an area where a special hole in the ground has been prepared for each one, and given a tree—pine, cypress, broadleaf oak or the endangered pinabete—and allowed to put their learning into practice.

Vivamos Mejor executive Estuardo Girón speaks of the eight reserves as a circuit that he expects nature aficionados will someday follow. He admits that not all of the other seven “bosques” are as developed as the Novillero one. But eventually, he foresees all of them boasting a similar array of attractions.

Aside from the education center, these include nature trails, rental cabins, a restaurant, picnic areas, a playground, herbalist and cooking classes, appropriate technology exhibits, Mayan altars that are in regular use, nurseries for trees and edible fungi, and a line of handicrafts featuring such unique items as vases woven from pine needles. The restaurant offers international, típico and vegetarian fare; there is even rabbit creole and a locally famous mushroom entrée prepared by the chef, “Grandma Rosa.”

One of the appropriate technology applications saw a setback because of the May rainstorms.

“We actually had a miniature hydroelectric project,” says Sickler. “It was not only a learning tool, but it provided about half of the electricity for Corazón del Bosque.”

Sadly, the rainstorm breached the little dam that was built across the small river crossing the bosque. But the other appropriate technologies on display are still up and running, such as small animal husbandry and wall construction using bottles filled with—what else?—snack wrappers. This latter form of reclamation has long been pioneered by German activist Susana Heisse, founder of the bosque reserve in San Marcos la Laguna.

The presentations are given to visitors on a drop-in basis, but perhaps the best way to experience the Corazón del Bosque is to overnight there at one of the cabins. These are at the end of trail, in the pine-scented heights. Each has an attached private temescal, or Mayan sauna, in the form of a dome made of stones. The cabins also have kitchenettes and outdoor dining facilities. Children are reported to love the three-level bunk beds.

For more information about visiting or volunteering at Corazón del Bosque, call 7723-4140, or go to www.corazondelbosque.com

Rossmery Jocón displays a candleholder and some of the pine-needle típico of Corazón del Bosque.

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The only instance, in the entire Spanish conquest of the Americas, when the local chieftain was permitted to retain the power of government.

By the year 1543, after several unsuccessful military expeditions against the warlike Q’eqchi’ Indians, the Spanish conquerors were desperate. At the same time, it had become evident to the chieftain of chieftains of the Q’eqchi’s—Aj Pop’o Batz—the ruler of Tuzulutlan (the Land of War), that the Spanish invaders could not be forever held off by force of arms.

Although he commanded one of the fiercest tribes of the Maya race, Aj Pop’o Batz was as wise as he was courageous. He decided to try to find some political modus vivendi to the crisis presented by the Spanish conquest. As a first step, he gave one of his daughters in marriage to the chief of Zacapulas, who had already been converted to Christianity, and he thereby opened a channel of communication to the Dominican priests under the direction of Father Bartolomé de las Casas.

At about the same time, Father Bartolomé, a defender of the Indians against the excesses of the conquest, had obtained a commission from the crown of Spain to send missionary priests to Tuzulutlan to try to bring the Indians peaceably to the cross and crown. Las Casas sent three Dominican priests, Juan de Torres, Luis Cancer and Pedro de Angulo, to the land of war. And these three, bearing gifts and a band of musicians from Mexico, journeyed to Tuzulutlan, establishing missions and baptizing converts as they went.

By the time they arrived at the capital of Tuzulutlan (now San Juan Chamelco) in May 1543, they were already able to speak Q’eqchi’, and they were cordially welcomed by Aj Pop’o Batz and his lords. Aj Pop’o Batz quickly accepted conversion to Christianity, and had himself baptized with the name Juan Matalbatz on June 24 (the day of St. John the Baptist). He also directed all the members of his tribe to be baptized as well.

This conversion of their chieftain caused great consternation among the Q’eqchi’ people, who lamented the loss of their own god Tzul-tak’a (mountain valley).
As a consequence, there were in the beginning (and down through the years) attempted revolts by disaffected Q’eqchi’s against Juan Matalbatz, which he put down by whatever means necessary. He protected the Dominican missionaries with his life and forged a firm alliance with them.

In February 1545 Juan Matalbatz and several of his lords journeyed to Spain under Dominican auspices and were received at the court of the Holy Roman Emperor, King Charles V. They presented the king with gifts, including 2,000 quetzal feathers and live, singing birds in cages. The king was delighted, and observing the Indians’ meager garments in the cold climate of Madrid he praised them as “men of steel.” He in turn presented them with religious images for their churches, silver crosses and censers, and the bronze bell which still hangs in the church of San Juan Chamelco.

Just as Juan Matalbatz found it necessary to keep his followers in line, so too did Bartolomé de Las Casas have to vigilantly guard against incursions by other Spanish colonists, who generally treated the Indians brutally. He maneuvered adroitly in both Guatemala and the Spanish court to make Tuzulutlan a Dominican fiefdom, answerable only to the crown.

These efforts were successful, and in September 1554 the Dominicans installed Juan Matalbatz as the first provincial governor. This is the only instance, in the entire Spanish conquest of the Americas, when the local chieftain was permitted to retain the power of government. As governor, Juan Matalbatz was even granted the right to arrest and punish Spanish transgressors of the law, which was considered a great affront by the conquistador mentality of the time.

The great alliance of the Spanish and Q’eqchi’s was celebrated in 1548 by the change in name of the province from Tuzulutlan (land of war) to Verapaz (true peace). Although there was always friction between the two races—even rebellions at times through the years—the Verapaz basically escaped the violent upheavals that characterized the conquest elsewhere.

Communal Indian ownership of the land was respected, and the Q’eqchi’s preserved their own language and culture to a remarkable degree. To this day it is assumed in the Verapaz that a Ladino will speak Q’eqchi’, not that an Indian will speak Spanish.

The Dominican rule endured until the mid-18th century, and thereafter the sheer physical isolation of the Verapaz from the rest of Guatemala shielded it from the revolutions of the 19th century. It was not until the 1880s, under President Justo Rufino Barrios, that the land of the Verapaz was finally expropriated from its Indian owners, thus ending the accord originally forged by Juan Matalbatz and Bartolomé de las Casas.

Nevertheless, the synchronism of these two powerful men of peace made what is now Alta Verapaz an island of relative tranquility in the turbulent sea of the conquest during the three centuries that followed them.

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written by Guillermo Zuleta

Despite my name, Spanish is my second language. I thought I knew it well enough, having taken lessons and having spent time in Spain, Chile and Argentina. I thought I could hold a conversation with any native speaker!

It was my second month working in a bar in Guatemala; as a bartender I had the opportunity to meet a lot of people. Some came with friends and had little or nothing to share with the man behind the bar, but others simply needed someone who would listen and talk … and I certainly enjoy both activities.

It was on a Monday night, I remember it clearly because the place was nearly empty. This young man sat by the bar drinking beer and I asked a simple “how is it going?”

I certainly didn’t expect to get a free lesson of what I call Chapiñol, it is maybe 50 percent Spanish and 50 percent Chapinismos. His name was Miguel and he started throwing phrases like: tengo un gran clavo or me echan el muerto. I simply replied yes and/or no, but in truth I had no idea what he was talking about, “I have a big nail” What ???

So, I wrote some of the phrases I heard that night and asked my Spanish-Chapin speaking friends to help me out.

(Ser) Pura lata: literally (to be) like a can; (to be) pure tin. No, they are not talking about how your body looks like nor is it that your skin is particularly hard. The phrase means that one is tough or insensitive, and it is used regularly when one makes a cruel joke or makes fun of others. E.g. ¡No seas pura lata con tu amigo! (Don’t be cruel to your friend!)

Estar colgado (alguien): lit. To be hung (someone). Somehow it does imply a bit of pain, not in the neck, but in the heart if the one with whom one is in love doesn’t feel the same, as it means that someone is in love. E.g. Manuel está colgado de Karin. (Manuel is in love with Karin.)

Ser un huevón: lit. To be a big egg. Well, again, not describing the physical appeal, rather talking about those who can easily beat any record, as long as it is about laziness. This phrase, which is particularly popular, describes someone who wouldn’t work, study or perform activities that require action. I was told that this can be a bit offensive, but that depends on how it is said and, of course, if the one who says it is familiar to the lucky one who is described. E.g. ¡Qué huevón sos! (How lazy you are!)

Vos no la hacés: lit. You do not do it? You do not make it? I am honest here, best as they tried to explain it, I still don’t understand how that phrase could mean: I cannot believe what you do. It is not acceptable that you do that, when they are actually saying that one doesn’t do it. E.g. Vos no la hacés, ¡ya no tenés dinero! (You are crazy! You already ran out of money! )

Mirá pues: lit. Look then. Okay, look. I know this might seem pretty clear, but one starts to wonder if one has totally understood it after hearing it over and over. It is some kind of key phrase to start every second sentence. I think it is the equivalent to our: so or the famous you know. In any event, if you hear it, don’t turn your face around trying to see something, just pay close attention and you will be fine. E.g. Mirá pues, esto es fácil. (Okay, look, this is easy.)

Tener un gran clavo: If you hear someone saying “tengo un gran clavo” (lit. I have a big nail), don’t think they are talking about a tool that will break some world records, that expression usually means that someone has a big problem. Therefore, if the phrase goes: “no hay clavo,” (lit. there is no nail), you will know that it implies that everything is fine or that things go well. E.g. Tengo un gran clavo con mis padres! (I have a big problem with my parents.)

Echarle el muerto (a alguien): lit. To throw (to pour?) the dead one (over someone). Thank God, it has nothing to do with real dead bodies! It simply implies that you, or more conveniently someone else, is seen as guilty. It is very common that someone wants to put the blame on someone else. In that case, the one who will not take it would say: a mí no me echen el muerto. E.g. ¡Siempre me echan el muerto cuando algo sale mal! (They always blame me when things go wrong!)

Ahí la llevo: lit. I carry it there. Again, something similar to “mirá pues,” there is not actual “it” that you can see, watch or look at. It is generally used to say things are just fine, not too good, not too bad. This is a probable reply to questions such as: “¿Cómo estás?” or “¿Cómo te va?” (How are you? How is it going? Respectively) This phrase has close relatives: “pues ahí voy” (lit. Well, there I go) or “pues ahí va”, (lit. Well, there it goes) which basically mean the same. E.g. ¿Cómo te va Manuel? – Pues, ahí la llevo. (How is it going Manuel? — Well, I am just fine.)

Even though the list goes on and on, there are concepts that I found too difficult to understand; others… well, I guess Revue cannot publish such phrases, but they are really funny and/or clever. I think that is what makes regional expressions really special.

Lake Atitlan (photo by Jack Houston)

Turning a short visit into a long-lasting memory

Volcanoes. Lakes. Archeology and architecture. History and culture. Ziplines. Coffee plantations. UNESCO World Heritage sites. Plus, of course, shopping. Guatemala has all these attractions for tourism. But what about the tourist who has only a few days and less than $300? Yes, with planning and time management, that tourist can have a comprehensive Guatemala experience.

As an example, a well-established tour company recently offered a four-night package that begins on Friday night at a four-star hotel near the airport in Guatemala City. After included airport pick-up, travelers are on their own for the day. Depending on arrival time, they might opt for a visit to the historic center or artisans’ market or maybe just recoup at the hotel pool.

The package includes a sumptuous buffet breakfast before Saturday 9 a.m. departure for La Antigua, with commentary along the way for a group of about 10. First stop is a hotel-museum where the guide points out the old and the new, revealing restoration of the Dominican monastery established in the 16th century. By this time cameras are out clicking at burial places, colonial kitchen facilities, fountain and gardens.

A short walk leads to a workshop for a talk on the discovery of jade in Guatemala. After a shot of coffee and a few minutes to shop, the walk continues, toward Volcano Agua with a brief history along the way about the founding of the town in 1542. There’s a visit to the tomb of Santo Hermano Pedro, Central America’s first and to-date only saint, at the San Francisco Church, and the cameras keep clicking.

The van is waiting for a drive across town—without stops to ensure staying on schedule—past Central Park, the Cathedral and Palace of the Captains General, then on to the La Merced Church. Following must-take photos of the baroque façade, there’s a visit inside to see the 17th century Jesús Nazareno image viewed in procession by thousands every Good Friday, a look at the monastery fountain, the largest in Central America, and then it’s up to the terrace for a birds’ eye view of the town.

Almost gratefully, the group boards the van for Chichicastenango, glad for time to check photos and process images in their heads before a lunch break at Tecpán—where some hardcore shoppers escape and forfeit food for shopping.

After comfortable and quick check-in at the Chichicastenango inn, conveniently located near the Santo Tomás Church and market, each one does his own thing: wander through the gardens and the town, visit the church, people-watch with coffee…or get a head start on shopping. After choosing a simple or not-so-simple dinner, tired travelers cozy-up by stone fireplaces in rooms furnished with antiques and stocked with wood and candles, reviewing a full day, a full camera and fast-filling-up shopping bags before snuggling under welcome woolen blankets for the night.

Waiters in typical dress serve Sunday breakfast. The market is beginning to bustle, and flower-filled steps of the church lure visitors inside to incense-scented ceremony. But the van leaves at 11, so there’s no time to dawdle. Following a flurry of sights, smells and sounds, satisfied shoppers head for Panajachel, enjoying lush highland scenery along the way.

With wise planning the van bypasses the shopping and heads straight for a launch to take the 10 to the lakeside village of Santa Catarina, where they experience distinctive blue-and-green crafts and clothing. A terrace lunch refuels, with time to absorb the beauty of Lake Atitlán before returning to Guatemala City.

Early evening arrival back at the hotel offers time to reorganize, choose among many close-by dinner options and reflect on another full day, getting a grip on the fact that arrival here was only one night ago, and there’s only one day left with this package. That day is free to spend as each traveler chooses.

Some leave early for an optional one-day trip to Tikal and back. Some choose to climb active Volcano Pacaya and are picked up after that bountiful buffet breakfast. Yet others get a cab to Constitution Square to spend the day freestyle, visiting the Metropolitan Cathedral, the National Palace and the old Post Office, stopping for lunch in a historic hotel. Other options include the zoo, the Ethnic or History and Archeology Museum or a guided tour of the city. Of course there’s the market, or one might choose to spend the day soaking up the sun poolside at the hotel. Whatever the choice, the day—and the tour—is over all too soon.

One last evening and night, one last buffet breakfast and then it’s off to the airport. It was for sure a whirlwind tour. There’s much more to enjoy in Guatemala, and certainly any of the sites in this sample tour deserve more time. But when time and budget are limited, yes, it is possible to get a pretty good idea about what Guatemala has to offer and whet the appetite for a return visit.

photos by Jack Houston

This two-letter word in English has more meanings than any other two-letter word. The word is ‘UP.’ It is listed in the dictionary as an [adv], [prep], [adj], [n] or [v].

It’s easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP?
At a meeting, why does a topic come UP? Why do we speak UP, and why are the officers UP for election and why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report?

We call UP our friends, brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver, warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and fix UP the old car.

At other times this little word has really special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing but to be dressed UP is special.

And this UP is confusing: A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP. We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night. We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP!

To be knowledgeable about the proper uses of UP, look UP the word UP in the dictionary. In a desk-sized dictionary, it takes UP almost 1/4 of the page and can add UP to about thirty definitions.

If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UP is used. It will take UP a lot of your time, but if you don’t give UP, you may wind UP with a hundred or more.

When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP. When the sun comes out we say it is clearing UP. When it rains, it soaks UP the earth. When it does not rain for awhile, things dry UP. One could go on and on, but I’ll wrap it UP, for now …my time is UP! Now I’ll shut UP.

written by Dorothy Kethle

I send a lot of emails. Sometimes it’s articles, sometimes it’s photographs, sometimes it’s jokes. Occasionally I write a proper letter. I do this in part because I live thousands of miles from most of my friends. I do this in part because I’m retired and have time. But I do it the most because life is uncertain, and I want the people I love to know I think of them often and care about them. I do it because many of the people I care about are going through difficult times, and I want to send a little joy and laughter across the miles. I want them to stop worrying about finances, about politics, about the mortgages, the lost jobs, the health problems, if only for a minute, and laugh, or look at a pretty picture—just for a minute—and to know there’s someone out there who is thinking about them, who loves them, who cares.

I don’t send the same things to the same people. I don’t have “lists.” I go through my addresses and select the ones who will appreciate a particular item. I have friends who, to varying degrees, like birds, from “interested” to “passionate.” A friend sent me a wonderful site with pictures of hundreds of birds. You click on the bird and the bird’s call plays. (Drove my cat wild one evening. He circled the computer for about 10 minutes and then settled down on the keyboard, which, of course, broke the connection.) Anyway, I sent it to three or four people, including a former colleague I hadn’t been in touch with for a long time.

Then there’s my friends who like archaeological stuff, which is one of my passions. They get the latest on El Mirador, but not the birds. Those interested in politics get tidbits not found on the evening news. The cooks get recipes; the gardeners, info on plants, especially ones I’ve encountered here in the tropics. (Since many have been snowbound this winter, it’s nice to let them know the whole world isn’t icy and snowy.) Even the jokes are selective, because some friends have a bizarre sense of humor, some like puns, some like political jokes, and some are eclectic, like me. It’s a lot like shopping for gifts for my friends. I’d never buy the same thing for everyone; I’d choose something that fits their individual personality, something I think they’d like that they might otherwise not have, something that lets them know I “see” them and appreciate them.

I love it when someone e-mails me back to say they liked what I sent, but I don’t expect it. I know everyone’s busy and I just mainly wanted to let them know I was thinking of them and, ideally, made them laugh. Laughter is so important. When I’m feeling down and someone sends a really good joke, it can change my whole day. Sometimes, if I’m really down, I have to wait until I feel better before I read it. But most of the time, I can’t wait to get my daily laughs and giggles. We can’t live without laughter, at least not really live. It helps put things in perspective somehow. It shows us what we can do something about and what we can’t. It reminds us we have a heart.

Sometimes I worry that I send too many emails. But not for long. I figure if my friends don’t want to read them, they don’t have to. Deleting is easy. No blame, as the I Ching says. I’ll never know, and even if I did, it wouldn’t bother me. They still know I was thinking of them, that they’re important to me. It’s the acknowledgement of friendship that’s important, not the content. I do try to indicate when something is a letter, so that will get read and ideally responded to, if not immediately, somewhere down the line.

So that’s why I send a lot of emails. And I hope my friends realize that motivation. I’d feel bad if someone was sick, unhappy, lonely, or worse and I didn’t know it and I hadn’t sent my little offering of love and reminder of friendship, even if it was deleted unread. They’d still know I was thinking of them, and that’s ultimately what’s important.

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text and photos by Brent Holmes

This mighty, pre-classic city flourished hundreds of years before more famous classic sites such as Tikal. It was bigger by far. “The designation ‘classic’ should really apply to the pre-classic sites. Those classic guys never built anything like this,” says Dr. Richard D. Hansen “The Olmec, rather than the mother civilization of Mesoamerica, are now better considered a sister.”

I finally made my dream trip, by helicopter, to El Mirador. Thirty-five minutes by air vs. three days walking and/or mule ride makes the trip feasible for someone like me, not a lot of time, out of shape and pushing 68! Our group of 12 was ferried by chopper in lots of four from Flores Petén to the site. Dr. Hansen acted as our guide for the next 24 hours and gave generously of his knowledge and time. His passion is contagious. So far he has spent 25 years on El Mirador. He was a great host, even giving up his bungalow to five of the visitors while he slept in a tent.

El Mirador is one of the most significant Mayan sites and a must visit for those of us who are so fanatic about our studies of the Maya. Why is it so special?

For starters, El Mirador covers 38 square miles; it is larger than the city of Los Angeles. The temples at El Mirador are huge. El Tigre is larger than all of Tikal’s temples 1, 2, the acropolis and the central plaza—combined!

The El Mirador basin is larger still, encompassing territory northward beyond the Mexican border. It includes some 51 other cities, to name a few: Nakbe, Tintal, Paixsbán, Xucnal and Wakna, all pre-classic locations. Many cities in the basin were connected to El Mirador by a road system, sacbes. The roads are magnificent examples of the engineering skills of the Maya. They were 15 feet high and 120 feet wide, made of limestone and thickly plastered in white. You can see these roads by air, long straight lines with the foliage slightly elevated over the surrounding jungle. The walking/mule path route into El Mirador utilizes sacbes. A path was cut through the vegetation for man and mule using the base of the sacbes. This is a trip Dr. Hansen says he has made at least 200 times. The project has 126 mules that pack in supplies on a continuous basis.

The idea was to arrive at the summit and watch the sunset. We were late. On descent twilight quickly turned into pitch black. Most had flashlights. I did not. The path consists of partly wood stairs, a rope, vines, loose rocks and small tree stumps, two inches by six inches or so. My fellows tried to help, shining the light and calling out warnings, but, of course I slipped. I rolled sideways; I grabbed and started to roll downward but was caught by a fellow climber, averting a chain reaction affecting eight others below me. I did make it safely down but lost whatever ego I had on the way up.

We were rewarded by a visit to the adjacent Structure #34. This is a small temple that has been extensively tunneled. A string of ceiling lights, powered by a portable generator, provided light throughout the tunnel. I entered the tunnel behind Dr. Hansen. We were given hard hats, and it took about five seconds before the first crash onto the low ceiling. I was told to turn left and keep going until told to stop. “Do you see the stairs?” “Yes,” I replied, but I said I had no desire to go up them. No problem, he just wanted us to see the stairs of the original temple inside the temple. It was hot, humid, and if you had any claustrophobia, it was over-the-top challenging. All in single file, we turned around in the very narrow, low-ceilinged, not-shored-up tunnel and proceeded in the opposite direction. The group ahead of me (I was now in the rear) sort of crouch-walked past the entrance path. I smelled fresh air and decided I could miss the rest of the tunnel tour. The group stayed another 30 minutes, saw the temple inside the temple, with swimming carrying his father’s head, returning from the underworld. The frieze is of limestone and plaster, all covered with a pure white powder. But when Dr. Hansen wet his finger and touched the powder, a blood-red color came through. This monument was painted red, as was almost all in the city. The frieze is in nearly perfect condition and deserves a permanent protective covering, or a building to house it. Cost is $150,000. Donations gratefully accepted!

The next morning the group split up. We were four who wanted to visit Tikal. So together with Dr. Hansen we took the first flight out. He pointed out the sacbes and other cities that appeared as mere bumps on the distant landscape. He showed us the cleared areas that were actually bajos or swamps, as the Maya had encountered 2,600 years ago and made into fertile agricultural fields. He showed us massive present-day deforestation, the illegal encroachment into the park for lumbering or cattle grazing (narco cattle he called them), miles and miles of forest cleared. He talked with twinkle in his eye, proud of his project and left us greatly appreciative and impressed.

We arrived in time for Dr. Hansen’s 9:30 a.m. lecture at a conference room just off the helipad. The lecture hall was full, awaiting the rather dramatic arrival of Dr. Hansen, stepping off the chopper. Dr. Hansen returned to El Mirador after his lecture while we continued on to Tikal.

The Tikal trip was really interesting because of the comparisons: excavated and restored vs not; Classic vs. pre-classic. Visiting the famous central plaza flanked by two acropolis and temples 1 and 2 made it incredible to realize that all this could fit under El Tigre of El Mirador. It made us really appreciate, once again, the massive size of El Mirador.

So now I can say I have made it to El Mirador. If anyone wants to go, give me a call. Maybe we can make another trip, but I will not climb temples in the dark, and I will bring a good flashlight.

Note from the author: Any factual errors are mine, not Dr. Hansen’s.

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Bougainvillea Sampler (photo Rudy Girón/AntiguaDailyPhoto.Com)

written by S.C. Johnson

Sometime, before my time, I believe it was in the 1930s when minds were preoccupied with the Great Depression, everybody had to have a national or a state flower. Now mostly, nobody even knows what they are. I was at a British pub quiz night recently and our Swedish team member had no idea what the Swedish national flower happens to be.

In Guatemala the national flower is the monja blanca, a delicate orchid that will never see the light of day in La Antigua Guatemala’s fine plant nurseries (too hot and illegal, too). So, in my opinion, I think the monja blanca’s time has come and gone and it should be replaced.

A national flower should be national in distribution. The monja blanca, confined to a few isolated mosslands is not. A national flower should be easily recognizable, especially by children, the future. Let’s face it, if a monja blanca knocked on your door, you wouldn’t recognize it. “Hello, who are you?”

Enter my candidate for the new national flower, the instantly recognizable and ubiquitous-in-Guatemala bougainvillea. No shrinking violet, the bougainvillea evokes the term my mother used for it every morning, the “wow!” flower. If one knocks on your door, you will say, “Wow! It’s bougainvillea!”

And bougainvillea has some special attributes that endear it. We have all looked up, and up and up and up, and seen bougainvillea growing high in other trees. How did it get 60, 70, 100 feet up? Since it has no tendrils with which to grasp, bougainvillea must grow out and flop over a nearby branch, ever higher and higher. A true triumph of perseverance.

Not only does bougainvillea achieve the seemingly impossible by climbing without tendrils, it is easy to start and can easily grow 10 meters in a season. There is no better flower to show a child how to start a plant, which can become a lifelong love. Simply cut a 10- to 14-inch piece, not too green, and stick it in sunny, moist ground, thorns pointing down. Within a few weeks buds will appear on the stem and your new bougainvillea is off to the races.

Bougainvillea makes an impenetrable barrier against intruders, although birds flit in and out to their nests, safe from cats, weasels or other predators.

What you think is a flower is the showy bract, with the tiny real flower in the center. Just follow the hummingbirds.

Build a bower of bougainvillea, the sunlight filtering through the bracts is truly ethereal.

Where can you find bougainvillea? You can “borrow,” with permission of course, cuttings from a neighbor. Guatemala’s spectacular plant nurseries always have bougainvillea available.

Up over the hill from Guatemala’s colonial capital or down the Pacific road from Guatemala City, about 16 kilometers from each, is the national agricultural university at Barcenas. Rows and rows of flowers and other plants are available for sale, including mature bougainvillea. Barcenas is a national treasure, free to enter and a fantasyland for plant enthusiasts.

Here is my bougainvillea dream. There are over 200 classified colors of bougainvillea. My prior favorite was San Diego Red, until a beautiful English blonde from York, near Carlisle of course, bought me a beautiful yellow bougainvillea in Oaxaca. I dream of someone reading this paean to the new national flower, discovering a new shade and classifying it as La Antigua Amarillo, propagating it and making it world famous.

text & photos by Gwyn Lawrence

For most people, the birthing process starts in the quiet, sterile, environment of a delivery room. For a camioneta, it starts in the noisy chaos of an auction room deep in the United States.

U.S. school buses are typically sold when they reach 10 years old or 150,000 miles. The manufacturers estimate that this is about halfway through their normal working life. At this point they are put up for auction. Since demand in the United States is quite low, most used school buses are exported. Different countries have different requirements depending on the intended use and topography. Agents for Guatemalan buyers review the lists of buses, looking for something very rare and quite specific. They would like an International Harvester chassis with a DT 466 engine, manual transmission, air brakes and a Bluebird conventional 10-window body. As 95 percent of U.S. school buses have automatic transmissions and hydraulic brakes, this configuration is hard to find. Even harder are two that are the same. The reason the agent wants twins is that the two buses are then chained together and one driver takes them to the U.S. / Mexico border. The only border crossing that is available for commercial vehicles transiting Mexico is Brownsville/Matamoros. So to the purchase cost has to be added the drive to the Mexican border. Delivery costs in the U.S. are 95 cents per mile.

The Mexicans have a bonding system that allows the conjoined twins to transit Mexico to the Guatemalan border. After a 1,200-mile journey across Mexico, import taxes and IVA must be paid before the convoy is allowed into Guatemala. The two buses then continue to one of the many conversion workshops outside La Antigua Guatemala in Ciudad Vieja and San Miguel Dueñas. Here the buses are going to be converted from U.S. school buses into Guatemalan camionetas, aka “chicken buses” — a gringo term for these converted, brightly painted U.S. school buses that travel between cities.

The transformation starts in the workshop. All the windows and seats are removed. If the bus has more than 10 windows, the shop will cut a 13-window body down to 10 and move the rear axle accordingly. If the motor is the usual wimpy 7.3-liter diesel, it will be removed and replaced by the 10-liter Caterpillar 3208. If the transmission is automatic, it is replaced with a six-speed manual. Often the single-speed rear axle is replaced with a two-speed. The hood is adapted for a chrome grill. A roof rack complete with access ladders is bolted to the roof. A destination board is placed above the windshield. Any rust is removed, and the interior and exterior are primed and painted. The company name is then added. Luggage racks are installed inside the vehicle. Finally, new (longer) seats go back in, and the windows are replaced. Some companies then add chrome, spotlights, antennas and a CD player. The “new” bus is inspected and put into service.

As is the case anywhere in the world, different shops work to different standards. When I first thought of bringing buses down from the U.S. for conversion, I sat at the Antigua bus station (behind the market) and watched all the different companies come and go. I finally decided that one company’s buses looked better than all the others. Six days a week for six weeks I watched the conversion process. Frankly, the workmen in the conversion shop owned by Esmeralda are some of the best I have encountered anywhere in the world. These people know buses. For them, shortening a bus body and adding a balcony on the back is, literally, all in a day’s work.
The bus now goes to work for a living. Instead of the light-duty work of taking kids to and from school Monday to Friday, the bus is ready for a far more arduous schedule: 14 hours a day, seven days a week, hauling people and their possessions over the mountains. Doubling the horsepower and having 12 forward speeds now starts to make sense. The first bus to the bus stop makes the money. The driver and his assistant (ayudante) need the bus to be full to make a decent wage. Not all companies keep their buses in good condition. As a general rule, if the company can afford chrome bumpers and a fancy paint job, it can also afford good tires and new brake linings. Buses on the more lucrative routes (Guatemala City to La Antigua) tend to be in better shape than buses on the less-traveled rural routes. The bus in Guatemala does more work in one day than a U.S. school bus does in a week.

So how about the belching black smoke and accidents? The smoke is a function of poor-quality fuel and deferred maintenance. Accidents are often the result of a combination of inadequate maintenance and driver error.

The answer, as always, is driver education and regular maintenance. Having brought two buses down from the States, having them converted and then returning them to the U.S., do I travel on “chicken buses” in Guatemala? You bet I do. But I do tend to use Esmeralda and Orellana, because I have seen, first hand, the quality of work undertaken by these companies. I choose these companies not because they are the only choices, but they are the only companies where I have spent hundreds of hours personally watching mechanics, fabricators, electricians, welders and painters do what they do best: give birth to a brand new and incredibly colorful camioneta!

First published in Revue: February, 2007

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Pana, unlike La Antigua, is no predictable grid. There are countless blind corners and weird angles, all inviting, particularly in Uptown, or Old Pana, the town’s oldest quarter (downtown, or “El Centro” is considered the spot where Calle Santander starts). Uptown is the most walkable part of Pana, and its corners beckon to be rounded and savored with the slowness that only pedestrians can succor.

Uptown is eclectic, given its compactness. I could argue that visitors to Pana have not really visited unless they traipse through Uptown. Everyone strolls Santander and the waterfront, but Uptown is Panajachel at its most authentic. You meet few or no peddlers in Old Pana, and it is an arresting counterpoint to the “touristy” face of that other Pana.

Start at the intersection of Calle Principal and Palopó Road. There sits (1) El Ancla, Pana’s original general store, where they still sell a little of everything that is not perishable, from stationery to fishing line. It is Pana’s oldest retailer in continuous operation, a success owed to the Mazarriegos family’s policy of standing behind everything they sell since 1956.

The next place meriting a stop once occasioned a bizarre exchange for me with a Polish couple. They looked lost, so I offered directions. It seemed that they were asking me if I knew the “Maya Canuck.” Well, I did know Rick McArthur, a Canadian who speaks Maya Kakchikel in his work with Wycliffe translators, and who had been called this. But when I offered to lead them to Rick, they were confounded.

Eventually it dawn-ed that their destination was (2) the Maya Kanek, Panajachel’s oldest hotel, which predates the 1961 electrification of the city by decades. Its lobby, featuring intriguing codex-like murals, is unchanged from the days when it was Uptown’s only comfortable lodging. The “coffee table” is a shellacked slice of a tree trunk. Don Antonio, the affable proprietor, can answer questions about Panajachel history.

A little farther up the street, you find Panajachel’s newest and strangest landmark (3).
“Torchito,” as the statue atop the pedestal is known, was erected in 2007 to commem-orate 50 years of the annual footrace that originally linked Pana with nearby San Andrés Semetabaj; today, the torch is borne all the way to Guatemala City. One of Torchito’s feet is bare, honoring those of the original runners who ran the course on their unshod feet.

Just behind Torchito is (4) Panajachel’s city park. Behind the small, shaded promenades and the sculptures of T-rex and President Barrios, the municipal “palace” perches on a stony platform. There is nothing palatial about the building, but the platform boasts (5) a relief mural carved in 1980 by Jordán Alegría, showing an allegorization of the conquest. On the right, a resplendent, feathered Tecún Umán resists a charge from a mounted Pedro de Alvarado. The latter’s forces, on the left, are a mix of Spaniards and Alvarado’s Tlaxcaltecan (Mexican) allies. It may be my imagination, but the figures on the right seem, by design, of nobler countenance.

Continue up the street to (6) Pana’s new mercado.

The old mercado, a smelly warren of ramshackle stalls, would never have been a stop on any walking tour. Trash and vermin were never far from the wares on sale. But today’s mercado enjoys a planned layout that is a paragon of space utility, airiness, aesthetics and sanitation. The expansive rain shield protects from the elements while allowing full ventilation, as well as full exploitation of natural light. Despite this manicured presentation of a highlands marketplace, no authenticity was sacrificed. You never forget that you are in Guatemala, since all the usual ingredients are present: produce stalls, dry-goods sellers, alcoves of meatcutters, humble diners, clothiers and a local for reed baskets and mats. Your tour should include some roaming here.

A side street leads to (7) the new municipal library, the finest in Sololá Department, and Uptown’s true palace. The library, with its arched windows and wrought-iron grating, replaces an older one that burned down in 2000. It owes its existence to indefatigable American author Ann Cameron and her husband Bill, and doubles as the town museum. Labeled exhibits of historical pictures and textiles adorn the walls and pylons. The most poignant exhibit is a page from one of the 8,000 books destroyed in the fire.

After you exit the library, cross the street toward the Catholic church. Within the elegant gate you can see finely sculpted floral mounds and collared trees. Go right, following the sidewalk to the (8) church plaza, Uptown’s only open space. Pana’s City Hall departs from the norm by sitting behind the church, rather than facing it over a plaza. Open-air and official ceremonies nonetheless take place on this spot: Deer Dances, Catholic processions, and the annual feria all culminate here.

Across the street stands the medieval-looking (9) belfry, believed to be Pana’s oldest edifice. The bell inside, massively cracked, is seldom rung.

From the plaza, enter the (10) church dedicated to St. Francis of Assisi, Pana’s patron. The thick granite walls of the current church, dating from the 1800s, soften the bustle of Panajachel, making the church a favorite interfaith meditation spot.

From the plaza, go south again into Pana’s oldest commercial area, which before the tourist boom of the 80s was home to coffee and grain brokers. Even today the aroma of fresh coffee is piped into this quarter of barbers and tailors by the Roberts family of South Africa, to allure walkers to their (11) Crossroads Café, where premium coffees can be sampled and bought in bulk.

Turn left at the next corner to reach the clinic and (12) gallery of pediatrician Gerardo Barreno, a self-described “Mayaphile.” Dr. Barreno, who charges as little as Q10 for consultations, provides scultptors, painters and artisans with a free showcase that has launched careers. It may be the perfect spot to buy a memento of your walk through Old Panajachel, or, if nothing else, to see Mona Lisa with Maya features.

photos by Shaila Reddy

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Chateau DeFay

A rewarding excursion to Guatemala’s first winery to produce wine from locally-grown grapes since colonial times

text and photos by Ira Lewis

Hidden behind a coffee finca on the lower slopes of volcano El Agua is the first winery to produce wine from Guatemalan-grown grapes since colonial times: Chateau DeFay. Jacques and Angie DeFay recently presented their first vintage after years of finding the right grapes, some false starts, lots of very hard work and years of nurturing the vines. The vintage is 2007, but the wines have only just become available to the public.

After a four-kilomoter drive down a dirt road from Santa María de Jesús toward Palín, it comes as quite a surprise to find this turreted chateau, which would be perfectly at home in Bordeaux or Italy. A gate on the left with the discreet initials “CDF” marks the entrance.

The three wines of the first vintage, even coming from young vines, show promise. Could Guatemala be another improbable area that will become a wine-producing country because the right soil and weather conditions exist? It all starts with one winery.

For example, North Carolina was not a wine-producing state 20 years ago. Then tobacco demand fell, a few farms planted grapes and some started to make wine. As the potential became apparent, experienced vintners came into the area and now wine cognoscenti are starting to refer to the North Carolina Piedmont region as the Sonoma Valley of the East Coast.

Jacques DeFay had previously made two visits to Guatemala, totaling about seven weeks, when he was working for the Inter-American Development Bank. When he decided to retire, he and Angie returned to Guatemala to look for a farm where they could grow raspberries. After looking for some time, they bought the coffee finca on the lower slopes of El Agua 10 years ago. There was not enough water for raspberries, but Angie planted asparagus, which she still grows, and presents as a tasty preserve—a very light pickle which enhances the natural flavor of the asparagus.

Even though people said he was crazy, Jacques decided to try grapes, and the first vines were planted nine years ago. Strictly by trial and error, he tried several varieties before finding some that took well to the volcanic soil and the seasonal variations of the area. No one could give advice except “don’t waste your time.”

Once he had his grapes, Jacques drove ahead with his plans for a winery. This was not to be a hobby but rather a serious winery producing the best wine possible from Guatemalan grapes.

A chateau was built which, besides having family living quarters, could also be used for wine tasting, receptions and other events. An 18-hole miniature golf course was placed on the landscaped grounds as well as a round, glassed-in barbeque pavilion.

Stainless-steel winemaking equipment was imported from the United States by way of Italy and France, and an Italian winemaker, Bruno Coppola, was hired to develop the wines. Jacques had worked with very little assistance developing the vines but decided he really needed a trained winemaker to properly control the winemaking process. Coppola was trained in Italy, worked there at his uncle’s winery, then added four more years experience in wineries in the Sonoma Valley and two years in New York, where Jacques met him. He’d gone on to Brazil and then to Italy as a consultant when Jacques persuaded him to come to Guatemala.

The three wines of the first vintage show great promise. Two of the three, Angie’s Blend and White Merlot (rosé) are different from the dry, full-bodied wines most appreciated in Guatemala.

There are other wines of the world, which have different standards and different tastes. They are neither better nor worse—they are different and many are excellent. It is next to impossible to find in Guatemala a Beerenauslese from a top Rhine vineyard, a great Sauterne or a dry Oloroso sherry, because they do not conform to the accepted taste standards.

Angie’s Blend is one of the few dessert wines on the market here. When served with some pieces of good chocolate or a simple pound cake, Angie’s Blend gives you an epicurean dessert. The most expensive wine in the world happens to be a dessert wine, a Sauterne made by the Chateau D’Yquem.

The Germans also use these off-dry, fruity wines to stand up to highly spiced dishes—curry or Kak-Ik. It also works well with strong cheeses.

The French make and enjoy some really excellent rosé. White merlot is a wine to sip and enjoy, a tasty aperitif that starts with a sweetish grape flavor and has a dry aftertaste. It also would go along with mild chicken and other not-so-strong, dishes.

The Chardonnay comes with a strong mineral taste from the volcanic soil. Alongside a good California Chardonnay or a Blanc de Blanc of France, it loses right now. Still it has some levels of taste that show promise. It is worth trying with strong fish dishes or strong boquitas. It should be served very cold. With a few more years to develop, it could become a very good wine.

Visit www.fincadefay.com
Complimentary tastings on Saturdays and Sundays, 10am to 4pm, by appointment only on weekdays. There is also a special tour of the vineyard and winery for approximately $3 per person.
The facility is also open for special events such as weddings and receptions, anniversary parties and graduations.

You can enjoy a tasting of the Chateau DeFay wines at La Casserole on Callejón del Hermano Pedro in Antigua. More varietals are being added each year.

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The author in Antigua’s Central Park practicing her newly-learned second language

written by Linda Shaw

Was I really learning Spanish? Sometimes I was discouraged, sometimes I saw progress, but I was ever aware of the privilege of sitting afternoons in a beautiful garden under a prefect blue sky learning a beautiful language.

The day I asked to ride a cowboy was the day I knew I needed help. Traveling in Central America without Spanish-language skills gets a little stressful. I arrived in the region with a grounding in high school French, a smattering of university Italian grammar and a compact Spanish Phrase Finder, confidently planning to travel and pick up a little Spanish along the way.

Ordering breakfast seemed to go well enough in Nicaragua, until someone in San Juan del Sur pointed out that I had been ordering my Thursdays “over easy.” The words jueves and huevos sounding pretty much the same to my gringa ears, I remained smug in having mastered the expression for “over easy.” And though typically eggs did continue to arrive on my plate, I nonetheless felt a growing loss of confidence whenever they arrived scrambled.

My confidence continued to erode until the day it no longer existed in Costa Rica. While contemplating a wonderful horseback ride I’d taken along a white-sand Guanacaste beach, a bad feeling crept over me. I verified it in my dictionary. Yes, at the stable I had indeed asked for a caballero to ride for two hours. Then it made sense why all the stablemen had started to laugh and point at each other. Which gentleman did she fancy? they no doubt discussed. I felt a further humiliation recalling that after giving me a good look up and down, they had quickly saddled up a frisky caballo.

My Fodor’s guide, listing 25 language schools in Guatemala, assured me that this was the Spanish-language teaching capital of the world. Arriving in La Antigua, I started spending every afternoon testing the patience of my wonderful tutor, who would take my French-Italian hybrid imitation of Spanish to something… well, something closer to Spanish.

Learning a new language is neither for the timid nor the middle-aged. Many afternoons I thought that my brain was overheating and sending smoke out my ears. I created a daily ritual of generously offering to treat my tutor to coffee and cake as a device to buy an extra 10-minute break. Mentally exhausted most nights, I’d fall asleep just before 9, color-coded flash cards of irregular verbs dropping from my hands. Was I really learning Spanish? Sometimes I was discouraged, sometimes I saw progress, but I was ever aware of the privilege of sitting afternoons in a beautiful garden under a prefect blue sky learning a beautiful language.

We were interrupted one afternoon by a man who apologetically asked my tutor to find someone from the school office. We had just been reviewing verbs. No doubt conscious of interrupting my paid time, he pressed me to pronounce some verbs while she was gone, pointing at them on the white board. I confidently pronounced the word volver, meaning to return, confidently because we had just been working on its pronunciation. No! he said loudly and emphatically, you just said… something else I couldn’t catch and proceeded to pronounced it just as loudly and emphatically. From my angle with him standing and me sitting I had a good view of the roof of his mouth and most of his dental work. And from my angle I could clearly see the fuller formation of the vowel “o” then the tip of his tongue as it touched the back of his top teeth to form the final “r” sound. It was quite a graphic demonstration. I repeated the verb, with an awareness of what needed changing in my pronunciation. No! he repeated just as empathically and demonstrated again. At that point I resorted to my usual defense mode and giggled. I indulged him by trying again, all the while hoping for my real teacher to volver, more appreciative than ever of having a professional tutor and not someone off the street with little understanding of foreign-language teaching. My tutor and I continued with our afternoon session. At our break I was informed that the man was the university-level oral language examiner for the school. I left early that day just after coffee and cake.

Learning a new language is neither for the timid nor the middle-aged. Many afternoons I thought that my brain was overheating and sending smoke out my ears.

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This year 100 percent of the proceeds will go to a local ecological educational and informational project that will concentrate on getting the word out to the nearby population about the cyanobacteria breakout that is threatening the health of Lake Atitlán. On the drawing board are educational cartoon-illustration books for adults who can’t read, ecologically-minded coloring books for kids, ecological material for the schools and an eco-programming schedule for local radio and television broadcasts in Tz’utuil, Kaqchikel and Spanish.

Once again, the roster of performers is quite impressive: festival participants include Iguanamanga (reggae), La Trova del Lago (trova nueva), Grupo Maya Tz’utujil (cofradía music), AjBatz (Kaqchikel rock), Marco Trio Electric (get down boogey), The LeRoy Mack Band (bluegrass), Naik Madera (New Age feminist), Kyla (Latin folklore), Zanates en Stereo (rock chapín), Pablo Robledo (soloist), Steve James (finger-picking guitar), MaF Saenz (soloist) Percush (percussion), Star Maya circus, Grupo Sotzil (Maya dancers), Cósmica de Guatemala … and even more groups soon to be announced. There will be an art gallery offering local paintings for sale that will also benefit this year’s good works recipient, as well as demonstrations: for instance, bring a T-shirt and have the festival logo silkscreened on it while you watch. Kids are definitely not left out … there are some great activities planned for them like flag painting, face painting, a small playground, storytelling and a mini-circus!.

The Festival Atitlán will be held in a beautiful pine forest outside of Santiago Atitlán. Organizers suggest that you plan to come and camp overnight. There will be plenty of security, and the night time jams around the campfire are legendary. If you need a hotel room, make a reservation early because the hotels will fill up. There will be plenty of good food and drink, and if you decide to bring your own, please remember that this is an ecological festival: there are no bottles allowed, and you are asked to avoid plastic. Food will be served on banana leaf and biodegradable plates, beer sold in cans will be recycled by local kids, planners are doing their best to keep the festival’s “footprint” as unobtrusive as possible.

This is undoubtedly the most interesting and eclectic alternative arts festival in Guatemala! Come and join in!

For more information and updates about the festival please visit
www.festivalatitlan.com

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text and photo by Maya Moore

Thirteen Threads (TT), a Maya women’s education and empowerment project based in Panajachel, Lake Atitlán, proudly completed its first five years of operations this year. What began as an 18-month pilot project designed to provide resources to 16 groups of artisans working with two fair-trade organizations, Mayan Hands and Maya Traditions, has turned into a valued organization in its own right. Today, TT serves over 400 Maya women from 21 rural Guatemalan communities. 

The mission of Thirteen Threads is to empower organized groups of indigenous women to bring about changes, through their own efforts, that will alleviate the adverse effects of poverty and improve their quality of life. To this end, TT offers trainings and workshops in four focus areas: new and improved artisan skills; democracy and group organization; health and well-being; and small business skills, including micro-credit loans.

Participants consistently express sincere appreciation for the skills and knowledge that TT has given them. Over the past year, TT has offered sewing classes, a soap-making workshop and rug-hooking training using recycled cortes and huipiles. TT’s three community facilitators continue to make monthly visits to each group. This year, the focus has been on group administration for self-sufficiency, including themes on division of responsibilities, management of funds and resolution of conflicts.

TT, as an organization, is growing, as well. An ambitious proposal for the next three years has been developed, presenting a variety of innovative ideas for transitioning into a more democratic and sustainable operation. TT hopes to continue to inspire others and is thankful for all of the dedicated support that it has received for this ever-evolving project.

Wish List
Used laptops, projector, funds to make a film about the project.

For more information on how to volunteer or donate, please visit the Thirteen Threads website, www.oxlajujbatz.org. You can also find the latest project updates on Facebook and Twitter.

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All year he hides under the bed or in the junk piled up in the corner, casting misfortune or worse on helpless mortals. But on Monday, Dec. 7 at 6 p.m. sharp, the devil gets his comeuppance, as he is tossed out of the house along with the trash and set ablaze in the Quema del Diablo (Burning the Devil), a tradition in many Guatemalan towns that literally sparks the beginning of the Christmas season. —Juan Carlos Ordóñez

Dec. 7 & 8: Celebrations honoring the Virgen de Concepción featuring elaborate celebrations in Ciudad Vieja with parades and processions, fireworks and folkloric dances and dramas. Traditional food for sale includes estofado and pepián, a traditional Mayan meat dish made with a spicy sauce of chile gaugue and pasa, cilantro, tomato, onion, toasted sesame and pepitoria seeds. The favorite dessert on this holiday is crab apples (manzanillas) prepared en dulce. See related article on page 29 and photo spreads on pages 72 and 76.

Dec. 8 is also the official day for setting up nacimientos (nativity scenes) which is a strong family tradition in Guatemala that requires skill and a lot of patience. The scenes include Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus (who is covered up until the 25th), also shepherds, a mule, an ox, sheep and three late-arriving Wise Kings. The finishing touch, an aromatic chamomile ring, creates the wonderful scent of a typical Guatemalan nativity. Nativities will not be put away until Feb. 2 when the traditional Christmas season comes to an end. —Desireé de Ceballos and Karla Ceballos (Casa de Artes, La Antigua) See related article on page 18.

On Dec. 12 the Virgen de Guadalupe is celebrated throughout the country. Many children dress in indigenous clothing and participate in parades and church blessings. One such procession begins at the La Merced Church in Antigua.

Dec. 15 marks the beginning of nightly Posadas in a reenactment of Mary and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem. Pilgrims accompany them, singing carols, beating turtle shell drums and playing other typical Guatemalan instruments. They knock on doors seeking shelter but are turned away until they reach the designated home where everyone is invited inside. As the holy couple is bedded down in solemn ceremony, the pilgrims scramble for refreshments. The journey continues to another house the next night, for a total of nine nights.

On the 24th of December, Noche Buena/Christmas Eve, many are doing last minute Christmas shopping, visiting friends, catching buses bound for home. At 10pm the midnight Mass/Misa de Gallo) begins, celebrating the birth of Jesus. When the clock strikes midnight, Navidad / Christmas Day, Dec. 25) is celebrated with prayers, fireworks, good wishes, and traditional food is shared and enjoyed throughout the night. With the dawn comes time for rest, the day is quiet—with the exception of more fireworks and bombas at noon.

The traditional Christmas Eve dinner is tamales and of course punch that includes papayas, pineapple, crab apples, prunes, raisins, cinnamon, cloves and shredded coconut, served hot or cold when friends or family come to call. Hot chocolate is another holiday treat, as are buñuelos, fried puff pastry fritters served with syrup of molasses or brown sugar, anise and cinnamon.

Jan. 1: HAPPY NEW YEAR 2010

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