In short, the Chichi market was amazing. I got to go in the churches there, which are beautiful. Also, we encountered a woman who sppoke perfect english who said she was from Pennsylvania, but lived in Guatemala and worked bringing groups to Lago Attitlan to volunteer at the schools there. Her email is sarahmatzar@yahoo.com, and you can learn about her project at mayanfamilies.com.
However, Everywhere we go, Dad makes enemies by taking pictures. Ive heard that for a while, tourists were stealing children during the Guatemalan Adoption Craze, and now, whenever someone takes a picture of someone or touches a child, people associate them with a kidnapper. This was confirmed today when we met, in Todos Santos, a woman from Switzerland named Sylvana, who said that she was approached by a woman in San Pedro who asked her why she was there, if she liked children, and after saying that she was a secretary on vacation, the woman said No, you work with children. CREEPPYYYYYYY....
The Mayans also won´t let you take their picture because they believe you´re taking a part of them away. For some reason, I can really relate to that, and think it´s almost beautiful. When I take a picture, I don´t feel like it´s mine. It seems more like it belongs to the person or thing I took it of.
On our way from Chichi to Nebaj, I became carsick and tired of travel. And after switching buses for the third time in one day and encountering a particularly insane bus driver, I was totally burned out. We were in this one minibus with at least 25 other people, where it overheated and died after 2 hours, about a half hour from Nebaj. They assured us that there was another bus coming, but after a half hour, no such bus. The only things that passed were trucks, motorcycles, or other overcrowded minibus. And by minibus, I mean minivan with extra seats. So by the time our van and its people had been sitting there for over an hour, I was hopeless. Finally, a chicken bus came along that was three to a seat. But by this point, i would have hopped in the back of a pickup just to get there. i was seated next to a Peace Core volunteer named Kate who worked in a village named Xix near Nebaj. she was trying to make a hiking trail through the woods there to attrack more tourists. Finally, we arrived, and it was pouring. We came across in Nebaj a Hotel-Restaurant called Popi´s, which was very nice and had delicious Gringo food. A plus was that all proceeds went to various non-profits. In my humble opinion, Nebaj was relatively boring, with a normal, small market in the center of town. If I had to decide on something I enjoyed most about the place, it would probably be the weavings. Nebaj has a unique staple design in huipils and other weavings, which is various birds, giraffes and other animals, hidden amongst the purple, yellow, green and black threads. Also, all the women there wear a headdresss tied into there hair with pom-poms bobbling on the top, traditional solely to Nebaj.
In the Artisans´Market in Nebaj, there was a woman weaving on a backstrap loom. But, of course, she wouldn´t let us take her picture unless we bought something full price. SHe drove a hard bargain, but inb truth, she was a really nice woman, trying her hardest to provide for her family. Her name was Maria, and some day I hope to return those pictures.
Boy, have I got alot to say about Todos Santos!!! First of all, because the highlands are so impoverished, its impossible to eat fruit. Everything is rice and beans. So when Dad wanted a fruit salad and couldn´t find it anywhere, he went to the market and bought a pineapple and bananas. WE then brought them to this little old Comedor called Comedor "Katy". It was totally adorable, and run by this little old lady named Tina. It was hilarious because they couldnt figure it out that we wanted them to make us fruit salads. it was like unheard of to buy fruit, I wasn´t even sure if they had ever seen a pineapple before. And to top it off, they couldnt figure out how to cut it, it required like three people. But eventually, even pineapple and banana couldn´t cure the fact that we were TOOOTALLY sick of beans and rice. One night, dad said to me "how about tonight, we mix things up: lets not have beans and rice. Instead, we can try something new, and have rice and beans." My reply: "WOAH. Big step."
When we went hiking out of the town and into the mountains, we met a man named Gabriel Pablo Carlmo, who was sitting by the side of the road when we were passing by, comeing from some small Mayan ruins nearby. He was very friendly and kind, telling us about his daugters, and his family living in California. He surprisingly let us take his picture. He gave us his address, so I am planning to send those pictures back to him. While we were taking to him, a girl walked up, coming from town. I assumed they were neighbors, because they seemed very nice to each other, like friends. We decided to keep walking up the mountain with her, even though we were both just about out of breath. She told us her name was Natalia. We chatted alot about what she was doing in town (selling huipils she made) and where we were from. However, I came to learn that her parents lived and worked in San Francisco, and she was left in Todos Santos to take came of her brothers (how many, I do not know) and her grandmother. To top it off, they couldn´t return because they had had a child there, that the rest of the family hadn´t even met. Also, they didn´t want anyone else in the family to move out there because it was so hard to find jobs. I couldn´t even imagine. But she was so nice, letting us hike with her and telling us about the town, so politely. I took a picture of her, and I REALLY want to return and give it to her.
When driving through the mountains, it really gives you perspective on how small and insignificant you truly are. Sometimes, it feels like the world will stop turning because you feel so broken hearted. But when you just look around, you´ll see that there is sooo much else out there, and practically nothing has to do with you.
The last thing we encountered in Todos Santos was a mid-sized black stray dog with a tint of white on his/her paws and piercing topaz eyes whom I later named Xela after a nearby city. He/She began to follow us around when we first arrived, and after feeding her some crumbs of bread, she kept following us. I hope some day, when I return to Todos Santos, I can bring her back to the States, because she was a nice dog, like the rest of the strays there, and deserves better, as a citizen of the planet.
The thing I miss most about home is the stars. Here, you can´t see the stars because she clouds cover them. The stars have always reminded me of a kind of guiding light, and I think that represents something: when I´m home, I can see where I´m going. Here, everything is grey....
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Saturday, July 3, 2010
ChiiiiChiiii(Castenango)
¡Hola! Estoy en Chichicastenango. (for all you non-spanish speakers out there, that means im in a town called ChiChiCastenango)
The ride down here (via bus) was horendous. Down here, bus companies consist of old repainted school buses from the U.S. crammed with people, the tops piled with baskets and bundles of various things, from live chickens to people, no questions asked. You could take a taxi if you wanted to hop in the back of a pick-up truck. The ride up here was so completely insane, it could pass for the scariest ride at Disney. They had full-blown school buses doing hair pin turns on the sides of cliffs! I almost wet myself. Dad was just laughing at how freaked out I was. But I must say, it was a memorable experience, and if you're planning on traveling in Guatemala, I recommend trying it once, just to say that you have.
Here, and throughout Guatemalan cities, there are people and children in the streets, pedding bookmarks, bracelets, and hairwraps (I got one, it's blue) to tourists. Now when most Americans think of street peddlers, they immediately think they're poor-- however, I learned today that most street peddlers arent poor, they have a home to go back to and a family to support them. When two shoe-shining boys came up to us begging for money, they looked all dirty and i felt bad, so i gave them a Quetzale, which they immediately spent at the nearby video arcade. So, what you see is not always what you get.
I am enchanted by the way that so many women here continue to wear Mayan traditional clothing, even though the rest of their lives have modernized and industrialized. I saw at least three women talking on cell-phones while wearig traditional Maya clothing. No matter how hard the world tries to push them into business suits, they hold onto their ancestors, which I love.
Tomorrow, in Chichicastenango is the big market day, where tons of people come in by the busload to sell and buy. I've heard the streets will be jam-packed. I am so excited!
After the market, around noon, Dad and I are taking another "chicken bus" to an indiginous, poverty-stricken village called Nebaj, in the north, so I don't know if I'll have internet access, but upon my return to Antigua, I'll be sure to post my many tales to tell.
I will leave you all with this thought: when you hear Justin Beiber blaring through the streets of more than one Guatemalan town, you know something is blatently wrong.¡Hasta luego!
The ride down here (via bus) was horendous. Down here, bus companies consist of old repainted school buses from the U.S. crammed with people, the tops piled with baskets and bundles of various things, from live chickens to people, no questions asked. You could take a taxi if you wanted to hop in the back of a pick-up truck. The ride up here was so completely insane, it could pass for the scariest ride at Disney. They had full-blown school buses doing hair pin turns on the sides of cliffs! I almost wet myself. Dad was just laughing at how freaked out I was. But I must say, it was a memorable experience, and if you're planning on traveling in Guatemala, I recommend trying it once, just to say that you have.
Here, and throughout Guatemalan cities, there are people and children in the streets, pedding bookmarks, bracelets, and hairwraps (I got one, it's blue) to tourists. Now when most Americans think of street peddlers, they immediately think they're poor-- however, I learned today that most street peddlers arent poor, they have a home to go back to and a family to support them. When two shoe-shining boys came up to us begging for money, they looked all dirty and i felt bad, so i gave them a Quetzale, which they immediately spent at the nearby video arcade. So, what you see is not always what you get.
I am enchanted by the way that so many women here continue to wear Mayan traditional clothing, even though the rest of their lives have modernized and industrialized. I saw at least three women talking on cell-phones while wearig traditional Maya clothing. No matter how hard the world tries to push them into business suits, they hold onto their ancestors, which I love.
Tomorrow, in Chichicastenango is the big market day, where tons of people come in by the busload to sell and buy. I've heard the streets will be jam-packed. I am so excited!
After the market, around noon, Dad and I are taking another "chicken bus" to an indiginous, poverty-stricken village called Nebaj, in the north, so I don't know if I'll have internet access, but upon my return to Antigua, I'll be sure to post my many tales to tell.
I will leave you all with this thought: when you hear Justin Beiber blaring through the streets of more than one Guatemalan town, you know something is blatently wrong.¡Hasta luego!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
First Week, Antigua
I must say, I´ve been having a fantastical time here.
As soon as I stepped off the plane, I detected a smell. It smelled similar to a combination of the north river, cigarette smoke, and diesel exhaust. I experienced a similar odor yesterday at the People´s Market when i witnessed several large pieces of rotten meat hanging from the cieling covered in flies and unrefrigerated.
It rains every day here.at first I thought it was nice, but today it didn´t even rain. It was just gray. The whole city seemed gray. Like some sort of fog had cast a spell over the people, and everyone, including me, was lost in translation.
I wish I had brought and umbrella. I had to buy one in the market on the first day (when it began to pour) for the equivalent of 2 dollars.
I also wish I had brought hiking boots. All I have are flimsy sneakers that fill wih rain immediately.
The shopping is great! Everything here is super cheap because the currency, Quitsales, is worth a lot less. You can buy dinner for two for ten dollars. They also sell second hand American clothes, like American Eagle and Abercrombie, for muuchhh cheaper than in the US.
I love my teachers here in Antigua, who are both coincidentally named Sylvia. The morning Sylvia is really great with Spanish and likes Lady Gaga(!), and the afternoon Sylvia is really interesting and exciting and likes Madonna and has a dog named Jordan. I feel like I´m learning a lot here and it´s great practice with Spanish. If only I had my Spanish Summer Packet...
The culture is sooo interesting! Here in Guate, everybody dresses differently. There are no styles, and some people dress in the traditional Mayan way, with huipils (Mayan embroidered blouses, different in every city), faltas (traditional skirts with hand embroidery), and fajas (belts to suck in the gut and hold up the skirt).
I love it here in Antigua, and hope to return someday soon. The city is blossoming and growing into a melting pot of all different walks of life.
As soon as I stepped off the plane, I detected a smell. It smelled similar to a combination of the north river, cigarette smoke, and diesel exhaust. I experienced a similar odor yesterday at the People´s Market when i witnessed several large pieces of rotten meat hanging from the cieling covered in flies and unrefrigerated.
It rains every day here.at first I thought it was nice, but today it didn´t even rain. It was just gray. The whole city seemed gray. Like some sort of fog had cast a spell over the people, and everyone, including me, was lost in translation.
I wish I had brought and umbrella. I had to buy one in the market on the first day (when it began to pour) for the equivalent of 2 dollars.
I also wish I had brought hiking boots. All I have are flimsy sneakers that fill wih rain immediately.
The shopping is great! Everything here is super cheap because the currency, Quitsales, is worth a lot less. You can buy dinner for two for ten dollars. They also sell second hand American clothes, like American Eagle and Abercrombie, for muuchhh cheaper than in the US.
I love my teachers here in Antigua, who are both coincidentally named Sylvia. The morning Sylvia is really great with Spanish and likes Lady Gaga(!), and the afternoon Sylvia is really interesting and exciting and likes Madonna and has a dog named Jordan. I feel like I´m learning a lot here and it´s great practice with Spanish. If only I had my Spanish Summer Packet...
The culture is sooo interesting! Here in Guate, everybody dresses differently. There are no styles, and some people dress in the traditional Mayan way, with huipils (Mayan embroidered blouses, different in every city), faltas (traditional skirts with hand embroidery), and fajas (belts to suck in the gut and hold up the skirt).
I love it here in Antigua, and hope to return someday soon. The city is blossoming and growing into a melting pot of all different walks of life.
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