Leroy's Art Blog

After dreary Wednesday, yesterday was bright and clear. A good day to map a few more communities. After a half hour walk and 15 minute wait, I a caught a ride south in a pickup as far as Chiquisis - an hour of bumping along mountain roads. From Chiquisis, another hour on even steeper, bumpier road in another pickup to Tzamjuyub. The scenery changes along the way to a different kind of rough, raw terrain. The
scale seems larger, the valleys wider.




But the communities seem even more vulnerable. They are built into the steep slopes with little clearance between the houses, and the slopes above the houses are mostly deforested to plant corn. Landslide country.








The batteries in my GPS unit died along the line. Fortunately I had mapped the communities I'd intended by then.

It took three pickup rides to get back home - for one one of them, I was sharing the pickup with four goats. Just one more Peace Corps experience.

Sometimes it is just hard to keep things going. I've been using GPS to map the communities in the municipality here, but for some reason, I lost the map I have been creating with the GPS data. I need to spend some time with my GPS trainer, but he is hard to pin down. Fortunately all the data I generated is safe, I just need to get the map program working again.

Meanwhile, I could be mapping more communities. But I don't have a car, and have to find a pickup truck going my way, or ride along with someone here who is headed out to meet with the community leaders or supervise housing construction. But my ride yesterday cancelled at the last minute, for lack of training materials, and my ride today cancelled because construction materials hadn't been delivered to Pacorral II. Besides, it was very cloudy and overcast this morning, and I wasn't too anxious to get caught in rain, a two-hour hike from nowhere.

The Peace Corps is sending me training materials so I can conduct some community meetings on how to organize and prepare for natural disasters. I've gotta admit to some trepidation on this, due to my so-so Spanish and the need to have it translated into K'iche' to be understood.

There are two other local news stories today. The teachers are on strike and are blocking the highways today. Money is an factor of course, but also the gov't plans to privatize many of the schools. The other issue seems wierd. Seems the community that used to be the seat of government before it was moved here is in rebellion and wants to have their own mayor. Two mayors in one municipality? And this, right before elections. Why don't they just put up their own candidate for mayor and so take over the whole shebang if they win?

With everything closed in Sta. Caterina Ixtahuacan, I headed to beautiful Antigua for several days. Antigua is noted for its elaborate and multiple processions during Semanta Sana (Holy Week). There are multiple processions every day, featuring very large scenes on huge carved wooden bases carried by 50 to 75 pilgrims. The route is long, and is paved with delicate hand-made carpets of colored sawdust, flowers, and fruit.













The night-time processions are illuminated, and particularly impressive.









With all this activity, the town is crowded with tourists. I met a vivacious woman from Allentown PA, a professional storyteller who has been leading literacy projects in Belize and Guatemala for several years and helping to record some of the old Maya legends.


I did take a day to catch a tour to the Pacific and jump waves in the ocean. Monterrico is reputed to be one of the best beaches in Guatemala - there aren't many. It is a black sand beach, and the beach in front of the town was impossibly crowded and unpleasant. However, just half a kilometer farther there was a delightful beach bar, the crowd was much much thinner, and the ocean was delicious. I talked with a very relaxed couple who were enjoying the sun, and selling homemade fruit-based hot sauces. They have been supporting themselves this way for some four years or so.

In the bus, I met a very interesting grizzled old guy. He was retired from the US Dept of Commerce, and had been all over the world promoting trade. One of this two kids was born out of wedlock, despite his four marriages - two of them to Brazilians who, he inferred, have special attributes unique to Brazilian women. He claimed to still be on very good terms with all of them, a result of his continuing financial arrangements with them. He was a proponent of supporting the advancement of underprivideged young women by providing them with educational and language opportunities while enjoying their company. This seemed to suit our companion Jim just fine - Jim was an oily computer programmer, maybe 45 or so, who traveled between Hawaii and Guatemala regularly. He was with his intelligent and stunning Guatemalan bride of 4 months. Sandra got her start with a sugar daddy who was considerably older than Jim, and was now looking forward to living in Hawaii. She had only good things to say about Jim, the relationship, and her previous sugar daddy. Interesting discussion.

Tuesday, April 3^rd

We are suddenly into the rainy season. Clouds roll in about midafternoon, and it rains from about 4 to 7 or so every day. It appears that I am about a month late to get my mapping project underway, since it will involve extensive backpacking to reach – hopefully – most of the 106 registered communities in the region.

This morning Don Victor and I hit the trail together, with our backpacks, at 6:45am and were well along by the time the morning fog lifted. But the scenery seems even more spectacular, washed with the night's dew.

It took almost two hours to reach the first community. Xecaquixcan looks like a paradise, nestled in the valley of impressive mountains, but is at risk of landslides from those mountains.

Xepiacul is a new mountaintop community, still using some of the USAID temporary shelters but with many new block houses, and more underway. A sister of Don Victor’s took a break from her backstrap loom to give us coffee and bread in old Tzamjuyup. Nuevo Tzamchaj again has the raw look typical of the relocated mountaintop communities.

Panimaquim (at left) is an old impoverished community, with houses of adobe and thatch roofs and no electricity, while Paquisik has many attractive houses, along with its white church and a school complete with a concrete basketball court.

Just outside Xecaquixcan we happened upon an elaborate Mayan ceremony, with a bonfire, candles and incense, yellow and white robed priests, Aztec dancers, and three men pounding away on a marimba, all in a large grassy circle surrounded by about 100 people. It happened to be the start of the New Year, by the Mayan calendar. The group of celebrants was friendly, but concerned that I not disturb their ancestors by taking any photos. I would have liked to, but didn’t.

16 communities mapped. 90 to go.

We reached the old center of Santa Catarina Ixtahuacán about 2:30 and caught a ride back home in an old pickup truck whose windshield proclaimed Regalo de Dios (Gift from God), arriving back just before the rain.

I’d hoped to go to the Municipal Office to download the morning’s GPS data, since there is a large note on the front door announcing that the offices would be open until Thursday even though it is Holy Week. But the offices were all closed, except for the Citizen’s Registration Office where a group of inebriated workers were engaged in the final stages of finishing off a case of beer. Gotta admit, it tasted pretty damn good after hiking in the mountains all morning. But I guess I won’t have a chance to work up my data until next week. Oh well, I’ll suffer.