Tuesday, May 29, 2007
I'd been away from my sleepy Municipality for a week. But I got back on Friday evening the 25th to find the place jumping. That night there was a dance at the community hall, sponsored by the Instituto Paraiso. This IP is the local Indigenous Pride school with its curriculum heavily into Maya history and languages and cross-cultural studies.
The dance was surreal. It was a disco party with a live band and a DJ. So here was this dark hall with all these Mayan Q'iche' speaking kids bopping to the music, the girls wearing the traditional long skirts and the intricate huipil blouses. Typical of high school dances, there were still lots of kids sitting on the bleachers on the sidelines who couldn't or wouldn't get on the dance floor. This scene could not have happened without television and "western" movies. I kept feeling that this should be a National Geographic feature on a culture in transition. If there were any chaperones, they were not in evidence and certainly didn't stop the four guys who were drunk out of their minds from trying to grope any girls unfortunate enough not to see them coming.
Then on Saturday the 27th there was a big political rally in town for Alvero Colom, who is the runaway leader for the next presidential election, in September. Lots of banners, firecrackers, imported cheering supporters, and of course, Colom himself who arrived by helicopter. He is from an "old family" in Guatemala and so looked very European and out of place in this Mayan community. He is not popular here.
The dance was surreal. It was a disco party with a live band and a DJ. So here was this dark hall with all these Mayan Q'iche' speaking kids bopping to the music, the girls wearing the traditional long skirts and the intricate huipil blouses. Typical of high school dances, there were still lots of kids sitting on the bleachers on the sidelines who couldn't or wouldn't get on the dance floor. This scene could not have happened without television and "western" movies. I kept feeling that this should be a National Geographic feature on a culture in transition. If there were any chaperones, they were not in evidence and certainly didn't stop the four guys who were drunk out of their minds from trying to grope any girls unfortunate enough not to see them coming.
Then on Saturday the 27th there was a big political rally in town for Alvero Colom, who is the runaway leader for the next presidential election, in September. Lots of banners, firecrackers, imported cheering supporters, and of course, Colom himself who arrived by helicopter. He is from an "old family" in Guatemala and so looked very European and out of place in this Mayan community. He is not popular here.
The great misfortune of the day came rather late. Victoriano's father had fallen gravely ill just a few days ago, and his end came today. Manuel Guachiac, at 85 years, was delivered to his home by ambulance, on a respirator so that he could die at home surrounded by family as the respirator was removed. Many family members and friends were there, coffee was brewed and huge baskets of bread brought in. A fire was started in the tooj (the indigenous sauna) to wash the body before dressing it for burial. The family and many friends stayed throught the night, with mats and blankets spread on the floor of the large kitchen. The women typically talk and banter and hold a slumber party, the men gather on benches in the room with the casket, and drink alcohol through the night.
The weather changed to suit the now somber mood of the day. Fog rolled in, it got cold and rained throughout the late afternoon and evening.
The following day (Sunday) breakfast was served in the courtyard to family and many, many friends. The casket was in a separate room, now decorated with flowers, a few pictures from Manuel's life, and candles at the corners of the casket. A basket for donations toward the cost of the funeral rested on the casket, which contained a small window through which you could see the shroud-wrapped body. The custom is to include clothing, blankets, food and eating utensils in the casket along with the body.
That evening there was an Evangelical service around the casket. The pastor read verses from the Bible in Q'iche' and led the people in song. Following this there was a period of lamentation for perhaps 30 or 45 minutes. These were spontaneous personal prayers and memories, songs and verses, in Q'iche', all spoken simultaneously. It had the feel of speaking in tongues but without hysteria, and the effect felt somehow very human and comforting. When the lamentations subsided, the pastor gave a long prayer in both Q'iche' and Spanish, and that ended the service.
A meal was again served to everyone, recorded music was playing, and music, conversation and laughter continued until late in the evening. Again, the women gathered to spend the night, and the men gathered to talk and drink.
Today, Monday, breakfast was again served to everyone (bean paste, a hard boiled egg, tamales, coffee), and preparations were made to transport the casket for the burial. Still more soda and rolls for everyone. About 10:00 the casket was opened to inspect the body, then re-closed. Six pallbearers then paraded the casket from the courtyard through the town to the homes of Manuel's siblings and children, to his shop in the market, and then on to the church where there was another service.
In the courtyard and at each stop, the casket was rotated three times before continuing. This obviously was difficult work for the pallbearers.
The Evangelical Church was the last stop for the casket in Nueva Santa Catarina Ixtahuacan. The interior of the church is in marked contrast to the relative austerity of the large Catholic Church in the center of town. And the energy level here is always high, with live music and activities.
After all this the casket was loaded onto a pickup truck, with family members riding with it. This was followed by a caravan of some five pickups and a very large truck to carry townspeople to the old town. There the casket was carried to the site of Manuel's home before the town relocated, remaining there for an hour. More soda and bread.
Then the large procession walked silently behind the casket to the cemetary for yet another Christian service at the gravesite.
Finally the casket was placed in a tomb and the tomb sealed with concrete blocks and morter. The tomb is adjacent to that of Manuel's wife, who preceeded him in death by six years.
In recognition of the recent fighting between the new and old towns, both the National Police and the Army were on prominent display, with so many people from the new town suddenly appearing in the neighborhood.
It began to rain on the return trip to Nueva Santa Catarina Ixtahuacan. The chicken soup, tamales and coffee served on our return were very welcome.
Victoriano tells me that he and his brother will now light candles for their Father every day and every evening for nine days. After nine days there will be another, traditional Mayan ceremony, and that will finally end Manuel Guachiac's burial process.
May he rest in peace.
It is raining again.
The weather changed to suit the now somber mood of the day. Fog rolled in, it got cold and rained throughout the late afternoon and evening.
The following day (Sunday) breakfast was served in the courtyard to family and many, many friends. The casket was in a separate room, now decorated with flowers, a few pictures from Manuel's life, and candles at the corners of the casket. A basket for donations toward the cost of the funeral rested on the casket, which contained a small window through which you could see the shroud-wrapped body. The custom is to include clothing, blankets, food and eating utensils in the casket along with the body.
That evening there was an Evangelical service around the casket. The pastor read verses from the Bible in Q'iche' and led the people in song. Following this there was a period of lamentation for perhaps 30 or 45 minutes. These were spontaneous personal prayers and memories, songs and verses, in Q'iche', all spoken simultaneously. It had the feel of speaking in tongues but without hysteria, and the effect felt somehow very human and comforting. When the lamentations subsided, the pastor gave a long prayer in both Q'iche' and Spanish, and that ended the service.
A meal was again served to everyone, recorded music was playing, and music, conversation and laughter continued until late in the evening. Again, the women gathered to spend the night, and the men gathered to talk and drink.
Today, Monday, breakfast was again served to everyone (bean paste, a hard boiled egg, tamales, coffee), and preparations were made to transport the casket for the burial. Still more soda and rolls for everyone. About 10:00 the casket was opened to inspect the body, then re-closed. Six pallbearers then paraded the casket from the courtyard through the town to the homes of Manuel's siblings and children, to his shop in the market, and then on to the church where there was another service.
In the courtyard and at each stop, the casket was rotated three times before continuing. This obviously was difficult work for the pallbearers.
The Evangelical Church was the last stop for the casket in Nueva Santa Catarina Ixtahuacan. The interior of the church is in marked contrast to the relative austerity of the large Catholic Church in the center of town. And the energy level here is always high, with live music and activities.
After all this the casket was loaded onto a pickup truck, with family members riding with it. This was followed by a caravan of some five pickups and a very large truck to carry townspeople to the old town. There the casket was carried to the site of Manuel's home before the town relocated, remaining there for an hour. More soda and bread.
Then the large procession walked silently behind the casket to the cemetary for yet another Christian service at the gravesite.
Finally the casket was placed in a tomb and the tomb sealed with concrete blocks and morter. The tomb is adjacent to that of Manuel's wife, who preceeded him in death by six years.
In recognition of the recent fighting between the new and old towns, both the National Police and the Army were on prominent display, with so many people from the new town suddenly appearing in the neighborhood.
It began to rain on the return trip to Nueva Santa Catarina Ixtahuacan. The chicken soup, tamales and coffee served on our return were very welcome.
Victoriano tells me that he and his brother will now light candles for their Father every day and every evening for nine days. After nine days there will be another, traditional Mayan ceremony, and that will finally end Manuel Guachiac's burial process.
May he rest in peace.
It is raining again.
