So back in a time long, long ago, it was Valentine’s Day, 2009. Our town had its beauty competition to determine the coming fair’s queen as well as had a dance. Hoping to avoid the drawn out competition and go straight to the dance, I arrived almost 3 hours late. I got there and saw them handing out a prize and was happy that the event seemed to be over. To my chagrin, a singer came on stage, which meant the event was not over. As I would soon find out, the first of 7 or so beauty performances had just occurred and that this was the first intermission. Apparently the prize was for best legs or something. After staying for 1.5 hours, I waited back at the house, since I was tired and was sick of standing. I probably would have just gone to sleep had I not made a promise to a girl at the bank that I would dance with her. On a side note, dancing here is not salsa or some more technical dance you might think of; it’s a pretty good bet that if you have 2 working legs you can do it.
The next day, my housemate and I woke up early. I would be visiting her family’s house and they, as I would later find out, would be giving me a surprise birthday party. The surprise, though, was not much of a surprise as there were several breeches. Before leaving, the owner of the house where I lived told me randomly that my housemate would be bringing me to see a surprise. Then, when I arrived to their house early in the morning, (the surprise was scheduled for the afternoon), a tiny 6-year-old niece ran up to me, gave me a hug, preceded to give me a 1 quetzal coin for my birthday, and then asked me where my piñata and cake were for the party. Then the uncle came out himself and gave me a birthday hug himself; the birthday hug is only given for when you are celebrating the birthday. So the surprise was not quite a surprise, but the party was very special. There was a lunch with a slice a steak, avocados, rice, and salad, a cake, and of course the piñata. People here make you guys back home look like wimps when going after the candy. They rush down on their hands to pick up their loot risking their lives not waiting for the person swinging to stop. Oh, it was a fun day, and I have some pictures below to show of it.
That night, I went to Jalapa, to join LAMP doctors and other staff. They would be in the national hospital that week and I was coming to help translate. Their week included free medical exams with free medicine at the hospital as well as in some isolated villages, dental work, work at an orphanage they sponsored, and surgeries. I mainly translated for doctors giving medical exams, which was fun just because I could learn about how the diagnosis was made and how the treatment would help. I did, in my after hours, get to spend an evening with the surgery unit. After scrubbing in and them making sure that I would not faint in the OR, I got to watch the end of a gall bladder removal, several hernia repairs, and the removal of a possibly large cancerous tumor. Just seeing how they stuck the needle in the spinal column to anesthetize half the body was cool. I got a chance to dissect the gallbladder taken out. I had seen my mom’s gallstones, so I had an idea what I might find, but these things were huge and there were so many of them. Some of these gallstones were dime size and were not round because they were so many of them inside the gallbladder (the number and proximity of other stones were deforming the growth of the stones). I was hesitant at first, but after politely asking if it were OK, the surgeons and anesthesiologists were happy to answer my questions. So basically I had another awesome experience and got to see the 2 doctors again who had come in August to help plan all this. After we finished a little early on the last day, I took advantage of the time to visit the dump in Jalapa to organize an activity for the alternative spring break projects I would be doing. The following day, I would go with the doctor’s to Antigua, where I got to stay in the room of some doctors (on the couch) in I think the nicest hotel in Guatemala; it may be in the top 100 worldwide (maybe it was top 1000, but I can’t remember). The hotel is built around church ruins and the environment makes me feel as though I am not in a city anymore, let alone Guatemala.
The next 2 weeks included lots more preparation for the alternative spring break project that I would be doing with parishioners from our student parish in East Lansing. There were some notable events though before their arrival. On Fat Tuesday, there was the first ever town parade; it was tiny. I think the best part of the day was that people cracked eggs filled with confetti over people’s heads. The next day, Ash Wednesday, proved to be even messier. Apparently it is the day to throw ash or flour in peoples’ faces. I bought my pound of flour and stuck it in my pocket just in case someone decided to attack me. Well, I was glad I did. And after being thoroughly whitened, I decided to start an offensive in attacking more people since I could not get any dirtier anyway. I finally headed in at about 8:30pm. The flour in my hair and on my body was gooey and itchy from all the sweat and heat from running around. Let’s just say I spent a half-hour scrubbing in the shower.
Then the day after my birthday (on my birthday, the day after Ash Wednesday, I was invited to a special meal with Padre Victor), I left with another volunteer for Esquipulas, a place to which many faithful make pilgrimages. The city is famous for its basilica which houses the famous Sculpture of the Black Christ. The story behind the sculpture goes that back in the 1600 or 1700’s the community asked for a sculpture of Christ in their image; they got the Black Christ. While the community was bringing the sculpture on foot from Antigua where it was made to its hometown of Esquipulas, miracles occurred and the sculpture soon became famous to where they would have to build a basilica to house all the visitors. Even Pope John Paul II came made a pilgrimage to the site. This year is an especially special year because the basilica is celebrating its jubilee year meaning (it’s 250 years old). To do something special for this special occasion, we decided to go in style, by bicycle. It would probably prove to be the hardest physical thing I had done in my life in one day. We left at 5:30am and got to Esquipulas at 6:30pm. Of course we took breaks, but it was hard. I’ll try to explain some of the trip.
Starting out, we ran into some misfortune; I had left my phone in my room. The other volunteer had a phone, but the problem was that only I had the number to the people that we would be meeting in Esquipulas. After stopping and debating if we should turn around, we came across a man on a bike. I asked him if he knew the owner of my house or his son. He said no, but miraculously sad he knew the number of the son’s wife. With that connection and an extra key to my room, the numbers were gotten. We continued on our way what we thought would be a relatively down hill experience after what friends had told us about the rout. It was… until we got to the part where we would leave the relatively low traffic asphalt road and would choose to go by a safer dirt road (the next coming stretch of asphalt would be full of tractor trailers). We left there at about 12:30 and would spend about the next 4 hours battling steep terrain. At one point in the several times that we were asking directions to make sure we were on the right path and we wanted to know how long it was to get to the other end of the dirt road we were told that it was far away. When provoked to describe how far away was, we were told that it was so far away that he could not tell us. This was not exactly the best for our morale, but at least we had just reached the top of the mountain range at that point and would be going downhill from there until we reached the asphalt. Once at the asphalt within 20 minutes or so afterward we were at our 2nd to last destination, the city before Esquipulas. Per usual, we asked several people what the route was like and per usual, we got several different replies. To explain, for instance, when asking about the dirt road we took, some told us it was about 14km long, others 30km long. Some said there was an incline for about 2km, others for more than half the distance. Others insisted that we would get through the dirt road in no time and that we would be in Esquipulas at 3pm; I think they forgot we were on bike. I think it is funny how we were given so many different answers. It makes me think of the person who feels obligated to give an answer even though he or she may not have a clue in life. Another instance was when we were just before the city where we would take the dirt road. We asked some passersby how far the city was. They told us an hour by bike…we arrived in 15 minutes. Throughout the day, we generally took the answers lightly and tried to get many so that we could get an average and hopefully a good estimate. So again, when asking for advice while in the city before Esquipulas, one person told us that there was about 27km left and that half was going uphill (up mountain might be better to describe). The other told us about the same distance but that the whole way was uphill. We ignored this last person hoping for first response. Well, after going for 1.5 hours more and still going up hill, we found out who was right. The uphill segment seemed endless and we were constantly fooling ourselves hoping that around the next bend there would be the end of the tortuous climb. Less than 10m were left, but there was no way that we could do them and arrive with it still being light. Because it was getting close to where it would be getting dark (6:20pm) and not to mention being completely exhausted and having wanted to quit even at the town before Esquipulas at 4:30pm, we decided for our safety we needed to ask for a ride for the rest of the way. We soon caught a ride and our jaws dropped at how much of more climb still waited for us. But we got there, and went straight to the basilica, sweaty and all to give thanks. We were picked up by our friends, ate, showered, and collapsed in bed. I ended up having so much thirst and hunger that night that it woke me up. I ended up scavenging for any water and food I could find; never had I felt like that before.
The rest of the weekend was very laid back, with more visits to the basilica, a visit to a park and a visit to the original church where the Black Christ was before the basilica was made. That weekend also included a very nice nap. To return, we definitely decided to take a bus. Lauren, the other volunteer who went with me, took some pictures that are below.
It looks like I am going to have put the rest on the next entry including ASB Guatemala.
Pictures of the surprise birthday party thrown for me:
The one who is behind me is the one who helped blow the surprise.
Birthday lunch
Mickey and me
I did not really have a fair chance. Look at the stick in my right hand.
I got to spin everyone else before they hit the piñata.
My cake!
It's custom to smash the person's face in the cake... maybe I'll have to bring the custom with me to the US.
I even got some gifts... who would have thought before coming to Guatemala that people could be so kind and generous.The exchange with Soledad Grande:
My community and the community of another Peace Corps Volunteer help the 2 communities do exchanges of their agricultural products and their knowledge. See previous posts for more info.
The arrival of the women from Soledad to my site
Sharing experiences
Making chicken feed from scratch
The products that the group from Soledad brought: broccoli, cabbage, and potatoes
Products that my women brought: bananas, lemons, limes, sugar cane, squash, oranges, and some tuberous delights
The other volunteer and I leading the chicken dance for a moment of relaxation
The bike ride to Esquipulas:
At the top of the ridge when riding on the dirt road. We were so happy to see the top of that ridge.
Our first site of the asphalted road after being on the dirt road for 4 hours. It was glorious.
When we went to the Basilica in Esquipulas the moment we arrived
The basilica during the day
The holy door entrance that was put up for the jubilee year at the basilica.
People waiting in life to pass in from of the Black Christ Sculpture
New chapel for lighting candles...good idea since they just put a new fresh coat of white paint on at a price tag of one million quetzales
We were extremely lucky. We did not have to wait in line because our friends who worked in the basilica told the door keeper our story. We went through the other side and got to see the sculpture without wait or rush.
The Black Christ Sculpture in the Basilica of Esquipulas
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